The Human Question
by DarkClerk
Summary: Alec is a survivor. What happens to a survivor when they realize that surviving is not the same thing as living?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't make no money. Thanks for letting me play with your toys, Cameron.

Authors Note/ Summary: Normally, I don't approve of the introduction of new major characters in fic- stick to cannon, that's what I say- but Asha is just so _boring_. So I'm going to try to give Alec somebody he could actually open up to. Action, adventure, romance, debate on the nature of humanity, that's what I'm aiming for here- who knows I might even get it.

**Chapter 1-**

The room is cold.

Dirt collects in the empty corners where cement block meets cement block. Set high in one wall are narrow windows that cast wan light onto three figures, one occupying the room's only chair while the other two hover over him like vultures.

Sitting in that heavy chair in the exact middle of the cold room is a young man, broad and hard-muscled. In the light his skin shines palely green and there is a suggestion of scales on his wrists where his hands are cuffed behind his back. His clothes are ragged and dirty, even shredded in places. Under the hood of his sweatshirt his head is smooth. When he looks up, it is possible to see a slit pupil instead of a round one in the golden eye that is not swollen shut. There is a sharp line of blood along the opposite cheekbone.

Sounds come from the vultures as they circle him- demanding, cajoling, _insisting_. The noises have stopped meaning anything to the man in the chair. The vultures cut his shirt away, exposing bruises and burns. A knife is introduced. The young man watches it with one dull eye.

A question is repeated. Again. And again.

He shakes his head vaguely. Blood flows. His chin snaps back under a sudden blow and his gaze lands on the windows.

Escape.

A woman's face comes to him out of the light. She looks the way she looked the first time he saw her, when she reached down from the sky to lift him up into the world. She wears the same wry wounded smile. Three words slip out of his mouth.

The question is repeated yet again.

With tremendous effort, the young man drags the chair beneath him up and the knife against his skin punches deep, glancing off of ribs to sink into vital organs. He falls back away from the blade, smiling at the woman with her sweet sad eyes.

Escape.

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"So what's up?" Max asked without preliminaries when she entered Logan's apartment. He had asked her to come and talk about some information and she had agreed but she didn't want to be in his place longer than she had to. It was dangerous for the two of them to stand in the same room together and she couldn't let herself forget it.

He raised an eyebrow in his usual cool way and replied, "Nice to see you too."

Max ignored the provocation, "Logan, I got places to be- so could we possibly move this thing along?"

"Fine." He reached over and tapped three keys on his computer- a little harder than necessary. "Listen to this."

It was a recorded cell phone conversation. Max leaned against the wall by Logan's desk as she listened, frowning. One of the voices was vaguely familiar before she recognized it as White's chief henchman. The quality of the copy was not good: the voices broke down into static several times as they listened intently.

"The interrogation was partially successful . . . eventually," The agent reported. A muscle in Logan's jaw worked briefly and he glanced up at the girl. Her face remained impassive- her soldier's mentality firmly in place.

"So?" The second voice was unmistakable. When she heard White speak, Max shifted uncomfortably like someone trying to shake off an unfriendly hand.

"It claimed it got the forged sector pass from a fellow transgenic."

"Did it give you a designation?"

The copy degenerated into static and they couldn't hear the reply. When it became clear again, they heard ( ) say, "It just said 'the good witch' and then there was an- accident."

"An accident?"

"It threw itself onto the apparatus. There wasn't anything the technicians could do. We've sent the body for processing with the others."

"Fine. I want a search begun for this 'good witch'," White's voice managed to sound a little more contemptuous than usual. "We can't let them get organized-". Again the copy broke down. Half a minute later the voices resolved once more.

"-start down by the docks. I want this one alive. If it's been helping others of its kind, it may have information that could be useful to us."

"Yes sir." Came the clipped reply.

The call ended.

Logan turned toward Max. "Sorry about the quality. I was lucky to get that much."

The girl nodded stiffly, a thoughtful expression on her face.

"What are you thinking?" Logan tilted his head to the side to study her reply.

"That there's a new player in town."

"A good witch or a bad witch?" He asked with a small smile.

"I don't believe in witches," Max told him flatly, "but I think we need to find this chick before White does."

"I agree. But how are you going to do it? You don't even know what you're looking for."

"Transgenic, presumably female, trafficking in forged documents- it's something to start with anyway. I'll try down by the docks, since that seems to be where _Ames_," Her short smirk was almost a grimace, "thinks she is."

"I'll keep working on the cell recording- it might be that I can clean it up and maybe get some more clues that could help you find this woman."

Max nodded and turned to go.

"And Max-" Logan added and she met his eyes over her shoulder, "be careful."

This smile was genuine, accompanied by a casual shrug, "I'll bring a stake and some matches- don't worry."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Actually what she brought, or more accurately dragged down to the docks that night to search was Alec, who was not thrilled to be combing the dark streets of one of Seattle's least pleasant areas.

"We're down here looking for a witch?" He asked, glancing around at the dirty decrepit buildings with dry distaste. There were shouts in the distance from the bars that littered the area. There were unpleasant smells as well, from garbage and fish guts and the cloudy harbor. Alec pulled his jacket a little closer around him. How did he always get himself talked into this stuff, he wondered.

"A _good_ witch- whatever that means." Max corrected as her eyes swept the alleyway, peering into the shadows for danger or possibly evidence. Max had explained about the contents of the recording Logan had obtained but Alec still felt confused on a couple of points. He wondered what she was looking for- gingerbread houses? Black cats?

"Why is that again?" He asked absently, trying to step around an unpleasant pile of something. "You need a pair of ruby slippers?"

"What?"

Stopping in his tracks, Alec gave the girl a look that was somewhere between amazement and disgust. "Don't tell me you've been out all this time and you've never seen 'The Wizard of Oz'."

"Nope." She replied, still moving. Alec caught up with her just as the alley opened out into a street, lined with bars and strip clubs.

"How is it possible you've never seen that movie? I think I saw it the first week I was out."

"Who cares?" Max demanded, "In case you forgot, we're looking for something here." She crossed her arms and scowled out the garish streets in front of them, "So focus- if you were selling forged documents what would you need?"

"Why do you think the witch is selling them?"

"Costs too much money to make that sort of thing pro bono. She'd have to be selling, too."

Alec nodded, agreeing with that logic. They turned a corner onto a narrow street that was a little less crowded and a little shabbier then the previous one. They walked past a tattoo parlor and what looked like the doorway of a brothel. "To start, you'd need a front," He observed, noting the businesses around them, "so no one would get suspicious about all the people coming in and out."

Max paused and Alec also stopped to study a small storefront, "If I you were a witch with a small business, what do you think you'd do?" Max asked. Looking at the small unlighted neon sign in the window in front of them, he smiled. There was a chain security front protecting the business and the lights were off but you could still read the sign which said, 'Fortunes Told!'. Painted on the window in small neat letters, were the words, 'Palm Reading, Tarot Cards, Tea Leaves, and Crystal Ball Predictions! Madame Cora sees all!'

"Madame Cora, huh?" He observed, "Doesn't look like they're open."

"C'mon." Max nodded sharply over her shoulder, "This place has to have a backdoor. She wouldn't be comfortable otherwise."

The fortune teller's did indeed have a backdoor, in an alleyway so narrow and dark it was practically a tunnel. Crouching beside the lock, Max pulled out a small flashlight and Alec turned his back to watch the alley. There were a few small clicking sounds and he heard the knob turn. She nudged his elbow and they slipped inside.

The backroom they entered was very small and simple: one plain table with two chairs and a row of cupboards against one wall. They tossed the cupboards quickly finding nothing out of the ordinary- finding almost nothing at all. There were a few basic tools- a hammer, a couple screw drivers, a staple gun, and a single flashlight in one drawer. The rest were empty.

Opening the door into the next room, however, was like stepping into another world. This room was as full as the previous one was empty. The walls were painted purple and hung with deep red cloth. Some of the cloth had heavy gold fringe that dangled down from the ceiling to trail across surprised shoulders. A set of shelves against one wall was littered with jars containing strange liquids and powders as well as dripping candles and pale milky crystals. Floating in one jar was an entire pickled lizard. Alec leaned in close to see the creature better and wrinkled his lip. "Ugh," Walking over to the small table, he pulled a velvet cover off the crystal ball with a flourish. "This place is one big cliché." He noted, bending over to stare into the ball. He could see Max, stretched out and strange on the other side, "I see . . . a girl- a girl with a problem." He put a hand to his temple and closed his eyes tightly, "This girl, she drags her friends out on wild goose chases in the middle of the night causing _great unhappiness_. She has a bad attitude and . . . a smart mouth-" When he opened his eyes, Max had her arms crossed and was watching him with obvious annoyance.

"You're gonna have a problem in a second when I shove the ball straight up your-"

"Okay, okay. Gez, Max, lighten up." He looked around, "This place is a joke. There's nothing here that says anyone is selling anything except bullshit out of here."

"I wanna check the front, just to make sure. Wait here."

He shrugged and she slipped into the small waiting room that could be seen from the street. Curious, Alec turned back to the table to study the ball some more. He wondered what kind of tricks 'Madame Cora' used on her customers. Fortune telling- why hadn't he thought of that one? He picked the ball up and toyed with it absently.

"Alec-" Max's annoyed voice right behind him startled him and the ball slipped out of his fingers to roll beneath the table. Tilting her head, Max studied the spot where the ball had disappeared behind the long tablecloth that pooled on the floor. "Smooth." She said dryly.

"That's me," Alec muttered as he lowered himself to his knees, "smooth like-" He flipped the tablecloth up and fell back suddenly as the ball came flying straight into his face. He caught the ball but could not grab the girl who followed it. She managed to make it to the door before Max caught her, slamming her into the wood just as she touched the knob.

"What are you doing here?" Max demanded, her face close to the girl's face where it was pressed up against the door. Behind them, Alec got to his feet slowly, still holding the crystal ball.

"What are _you _doing here?" Was the cool reply. Alec couldn't make out the girl's face where it rested in a patch of shadow but he could see the three inches of her neck between the edges of her close cut hair and the collar of her jacket.

"Ah, Max-" Alec tried to interrupt.

"Where's the woman who owns this shop?"

"Max-" He tried again.

"Bora Bora. I hear it's beautiful this time of year."

"Max, you should-" Alec's voice was becoming impatient.

"Funny. Does this look like open mic night to you?"

"_Max_!"

She whirled around to face him finally, one hand still pinning the other girl to the door, "_What_?" She demanded, exasperated.

Alec snapped on his flashlight and held it up to the girl's neck to illuminate the barcode peeking above the collar of her jacket. He gave Max an eloquent look.

Her cheek still pressed against the wall, the girl observed, "This is one of those situations where a transgenic secret handshake would really be useful."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: This story occurs sometime after the episode with the mermaid. I try to stick to cannon as much as possible one of the few differences here is that Alec lives in Joshua's house- not because of the murder rap. I like their friendship, it brings out unexpected things in both of them and I'd like them to interact as much as possible.

**Chap. 2-**

Max dragged her around roughly to face them. "Who are you?"

"Don't you mean '_What_ am I'?"

With a move as strong as it was fast, Max pulled the other girl across the room to bend her over the table, exposing the back of her neck. Alec watched, ready to move in if necessary but the girl didn't resist. The barcode was stark against the pale skin of her neck and Max licked the pad of her thumb before drawing it deliberately over the mark. It didn't wipe off and she leaned in to study it closer.

"It says your designation is V2- 183. Never heard of a V series transgenic."

Getting no response from the girl, Max shook her a little.

"I'm sorry was that a question?" She asked dryly, still bent over the table, her voice a little muffled.

"Are you Madame Cora?" Max asked.

"Yes."

Exchanging a look with Max, Alec shrugged. "Are you 'the good witch'?" he asked the obvious question.

"Can I stand up?"

Loosening her grip reluctantly, Max stepped back. The other girl stood and turned carefully, to lean back against the table with her arms crossed. As she studied them, Alec studied her. She was a little shorter than Max with dark, shinning hair cut to fall over one eye and curl around her ears. She was pretty enough not to be plain but she had nothing to compare to Max's remarkable beauty. Her clothes were ordinary- dark cargo pants, sneakers, a purple t-shirt advertising a local carwash and a black leather jacket with a mandarin collar to cover the barcode. One her left wrist she wore a heavy leather cuff with two silver snaps to close it. She looked like half the girls in Seattle- utterly forgettable. Not like a fortune teller and not really like most transgenics, who tended to be pretty freaky or freakishly perfect.

"You X-series?" 'Madame Cora' asked. Max nodded. "Yeah, I recognize the style." She said, rolling her shoulder and looking dryly at Max. Turning to set the crystal ball back on its' stand, Alec hid the sudden curl of his lips. "What do you want with me?"

"We're here to give you a little head's up from one freak to another-" Max told her coldly, crossing her arms as well, "You've got troub-"

The girl made a sudden motion, cutting Max off abruptly. Tilting her head to the side, she frowned like she was listening, though the other two heard nothing out of the ordinary.

"What?" Alec demanded.

"We have to get out of here- _now_." She turned abruptly and ducked under the table to grab a worn backpack out of the darkness.

"Why? What's going on?"

"Somebody's coming- a lot of somebody's." The girl yanked open the door she had so recently been pinned against and gestured for them to follow her.

"I don't hear anything-" Max protested but the girl ignored her. In the backroom, she opened one of the floor level cupboard doors and _climbed_ into it on hands and knees. Alec and Max watched speechless as she disappeared. Her head popped out a few seconds later, "Do you want to get caught? C'mon." She disappeared again.

The two transgenics looked at each other. Max shrugged this time, "You first."

Just moments earlier, Alec and Max had checked all of the cupboards but had found nothing out of the ordinary. What they had missed was a false back that lead to the empty property next door. When Max was through the hole, Madame Cora fitted the panel back into place and gestured for quiet. Faintly through the wall they could hear the sound of the door being kicked in and heavy boots against the floor.

"White." Max observed softly to Alec, grimly disturbed that they had not heard the agents moving in. Alec nodded his head, sharing her unease. The windows of the empty storefront were boarded up but through the occasional cracks they could see brief flashes from the lights outside.

Tapping Max on the shoulder, the girl waved a hand, indicating that they should follow her. She led them across the floor of the empty building to a set of steps and down into the basement. It was even darker underground- the only illumination provided by a waning floodlight set in the wall over the base of the stairs. The farther they moved from the steps the darker it became. Through the shadowy maze of rickety shelving and moldering boxes Alec trailed after the petit frame of the strange girl. Underfoot, the cement floor was wet and he could hear dripping water in the distance. She led them confidentially through the shelves to the far wall. No one spoke. She stopped in front of a heavy steel door chained shut with a massive padlock. Using the direction and distance they had come, Alec figured that it opened into the basement under the brothel.

The girl pulled a key ring out of her jacket pocket and selected one heavy key, "This door," she explained, "will take us into the basement of Lady Loretta's. Stick close to me. We'll walk right through to the side door and then we can go our separate ways." She gave Max and Alec a small smile, "Thanks for the heads-up." She added and Alec couldn't tell if she was mocking them or not.

When she reached for the padlock, Max took her arm. "That's not good enough."

The girl lowered her gaze to where Max was gripping her arm and Alec readied himself for the inevitable fight. Standing just a few feet away, he saw it clearly- her body stiffened and the fingers of her right hand curled into a fist but instead of throwing the punch as he expected, she relaxed in Max's grip, ignoring it and its implied threat.

"If you want papers-" She began, her voice carefully controlled, before Max cut her off.

"What I want is to know what the hell is going on- who are you? How did you know White's men were coming before we did? And exactly what kind of business are you runnin'?"

"Who is White?" Her voice was cold. "Who are you?" She asked, slowly and deliberately.

Alec saw Max pause for a moment as she realized that she had not even introduced herself. Her fingers sliding from the girl's arm, she took a step back, "I'm Max. That's Alec."

She seemed to recognize their names, her eyes flicked quickly between them. "I think," she said, "that we should talk," Glancing around at the dark and cramped twists of the basement, she added, "but not here."

"We know a place," Max glanced at Alec and he nodded his agreement, "not too far from here."

"Okay." She agreed, turning the key in the padlock and opening the door.

Alec was rather interested to see the inside of Lady Loretta's, an establishment he had heard of in rumor but had never seen. He made it a rule never to pay for anything he could get for free- and even if he had been inclined to visit a prostitute, Loretta's was a little out of his price range. Unfortunately for Alec, their route through the brothel took them along the most boring and public areas, down empty hallways and across one lounge which at that time of night held only a few waiting customers. What a disappointment, he thought as he eyed a rotund man, half asleep with his ugly tie askew. Alec had imagined a whorehouse scene out of an old western with women in velvet corsets and fishnet stockings lounging on plush red divans but all he got were some distant moans and a couple of drunk businessmen. Not the kind of stimuli to sustain a man in an occasionally cold and empty bed.

Back on the street again, Max took the lead, hurrying them away from the fortune teller's shop and White's men. The journey was made in silence, all of them preferring to wait for a secure location before discussing anything.

Arriving at Joshua's- and Alec supposed his- house half an hour later, in the deep dark of the very early morning, gave him a strange feeling, like something unclenching inside him, like relief he guessed. His training told him the feeling was an illusion, that no where was safe but he allowed himself the indulgence anyway. Just this once, he promised silently- because it's so late and we came so close to White. Deep inside he knew this was not the first of these promises he had made lately.

As he and Max started up the steps, he noticed the girl hanging back to study the house. Catching his eye, she lowered her head, hiding her expression and followed. Max held the door for them both and stepping into the living room, Alec called out, "Josh! Joshua you still up, buddy?"

There was a brief crash from the kitchen. "I'll take that as a yes." He said under his breath.

Joshua emerged from the other room a few moments later.

"Hey, little fella." He gave Max the usual greeting and she dredged a smile up for him from somewhere.

"Hey, big fella."

The big man paused when he saw the girl and raised his head to sniff the air. "Canine in your cocktail." He observed. She nodded, her eyes a little wide.

"Yours, too." She said, studying his face. "Guess that makes us cousins." He smiled and gave her a friendly smack in the arm that sent her stumbling a little. Max interrupted a little sourly.

"Don't go getting too friendly, big fella. We don't know what the new girl's deal is just yet." Her sharp look demanded answers and she perched on the raggedy arm of the couch to wait for them. Alec wandered over to squat by the fireplace, holding his chilled fingers out to the flame. The girl leaned against the wall by the archway, looking weary for the first time.

"What was it that you wanted to know?" She asked, "I forgot to take notes, the first time."

"Tell us about the V series transgenics." Alec said flatly, tired of the attitude and evasion.

She pushed her hair out of her eye with one absent hand, "The V is a little genetic engineering humor. It stands for vane."

Max looked her up and down dryly, "You ain't that cute."

Leaning against the fireplace, Alec smirked.

"We can't all be ass-kicking muffins." The girl observed coolly, "And it's vane with an E- as in weathervane."

Neither Alec nor Max responded and she sighed, "I know which way the wind is blowing." She explained- sounding like a Manticore brochure they way they all did when they talked about their abilities, "I'm not as strong or as fast as an X series- although I'm stronger and faster than the average human. I do, however, have superior eyesight, superior hearing, and a far far superior sense of smell- among other things."

"What other things?" Max demanded.

"Most people have five senses. I have six."

"So you really are physic?" Was the sarcastic question.

"No. Shark DNA- you've got some yourself. It's called electroreception. It means I can sense electrical fields, including those made by living creatures. It's useful in conditions that negate the other senses."

Alec was frowning, "So when you say superior eyesight and all that do you mean superior to the average joe or . . ." He gestured vaguely.

"I mean superior- superior to even an X series' advanced senses."

He raised one skeptical eyebrow. Closing her eyes the girl took one deep breath.

"You had a fish taco for dinner- extra hot sauce. The fish could have been fresher. You showered last night, washed your hair with a homemade shampoo that includes lavender" Alec shook his head at Max and spread his hands in a gesture that said 'she's crazy'. "and bar soap. You ride a bicycle- a lot. You haven't gotten laid in a least a week and-"

"Okay- I think that's enough." Alec interrupted. He gave Max a hasty glance but she was watching the girl with a speculative expression.

"You can really smell all that stuff?"

"My sense of smell is so advanced I can pick up human pheromones."

"Crazy." Max's face lost some of its' former hostility, "You got a name? I'm not calling you Madame Cora."

"You can call me Wy."

"Wy?"

"It seemed like a reasonable question." She said with a shrug.

"What're you for?" Alec asked curiously.

"What am I for? A thirty hour work week and mutant rights?" She suggested dryly.

"I mean-"

"I know what you meant," She sighed, "I'm trained in intelligence, counter-intelligence, interrogation, guerilla warfare, and psychology among other things."

"Intelligence and interrogation. You were made to be a spy." It wasn't a question but Max watched carefully for an answer.

"No one in this room can help the way they were made."

"It sounds like you were made to be more than just a spy. You a grassy knoll operative?" Alec's voice turned cold for the first time.

Wy eyed him calmly in return, "The V series never made very good assassins. We identify too much with the target." He looked away first.

"You recognized our names," Max cut through the sudden silence, "How?"

"I heard what you did for the mer-girl-"

"How did you hear about that?" Max demanded, surprised.

Wy shot her an annoyed look, "Let me finish a sentence and I'll tell you."

"Start from the beginning." Joshua suggested and sat down on the floor crossed legged like a child eager for a story.

The corner of her mouth rose a little and she began, "Well, it was a dark and stormy night- the night Manticore was destroyed."

"It wasn't storming." Max said flatly.

"I was in the observation wing." She continued ignoring the interruption, "I got out through the woods on the west side when the fire broke out. I came to Seattle and set up shop telling fortunes and selling documents to people in need."

"You pass yourself off as a gypsy fortune teller?"

"I wear a wig," She looked down at her slender frame, "and a heavily padded bra." She added. "And it's working. Everything is going okay- I hide in plain sight and don't go looking for trouble, just like they taught us," She gave a tight smile and her voice was dry, "But only the thing is- I can smell transgenics."

"So?"

"So one day, I'm in the market and I can smell someone- someone like me and they're _really_ not happy."

They waited.

"You can't understand-" The girl's voice is very serious for a moment. Inky blue eyes stare into brown. "I told you I can smell pheromones. I can smell and identify the chemicals produced by emotional states- I can smell emotions."

"Like empathy." Max offered.

"Exactly- and it's very, very hard to ignore." Her eyes fall on Joshua for a second, where he is carefully looking at the floor. She continues in a tired voice. "So that night I come back and I find him, hiding in the garbage, beaten all to hell." Her fist tightens briefly where it is gripping her elbow, "What was I supposed to do? I took him home, cleaned him up, got some food in him and sent him on his way a few days later. A couple weeks go by and I get a knock on the door in the middle of the night and it's Kai, my lizard boy and he's got another lost transgenic soul in need of help, so I feed them both, provide them with documents to help them on their way and pretty soon I'm practically running a mission and-"

"You're running transgenic outreach?" Alec laughed weakly, rubbing his face with one hand. "Wait- what's the deal with the good witch?"

"It was a joke between me and Kai- it just kind of stuck." She turned to Max, "How did you know those men were coming for me?"

Alec wandered into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water as Max explained about White. He came back in to hear Max tell the girl about the phone call Logan had intercepted. Glancing over the rim of his glass, Alec's eyes fell on Wy; otherwise he could easily have missed the small anguished expression that contorted her face for just a moment. When she spoke, though, her voice was as level as ever, "Did they give a designation? Or a description?"

"No," Max told her.

"And we have no way of knowing how much he or she told them before," there was the briefest of pauses, "they died. I would like to know who it was . . . and there are people who should be warned." She observed, looking at Max who nodded.

"We can help with that- if you want."

"Thanks," Wy pressed the heel of her hand to her temple before using the motion to push her hair out of her eyes yet again.

"Do you need someplace to stay?" Max asked, sounding almost gentle for the first time.

Joshua perked up, "Stay here," He offered, completely missing Alec's look of alarm.

Wy gave him a small smile, "I have a . . . secondary base of operations, just in case. I can stay there for a while. I can't go back to my apartment or my shop." She turned it into a question by glancing at Max.

"No."

She nodded. "And it's really late- can I crash here tonight?" she asked Joshua.

He nodded enthusiastically.

"I think it's a good time for all of us to get some rest," Max observed and Alec had to agree. "We'll get to work on a plan to warn your friends in the morning."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chap. 3-**

Another nightmare.

Alec is in his bunk back at Manticore but things are- wrong. The door is wide open and he can't hear the guards. The bulb over his bed is casting a weak watery light, tossing shadows over the blank gray walls from things that aren't there. They move like sea monsters over the cement. He walks toward the doorway slowly, tying to understand what is happening. Is this a test? If he runs will he be punished? His gut cramps with anxiety. What do they want him to do? Five steps to the door, he turns back to see his unmade bed and then the small head and sink in the back right corner. There is a mirror on the wall over the sink. He has never had a mirror. He backtracks, approaching cautiously, and leans in to peer at his reflection. The way he looks seems as wrong as the rest of the room- maybe it's the strange light. He takes a small step away and begins to turn- to leave when his reflection reaches out and grabs him. It's holding him with two hands wrapped in his shirt as it pulls him forward to the mirror. Alec punches the thing that looks like him desperately but it's like hitting a wall. His hipbone strikes the edge of the sink painfully. He assaults the arms holding him, unable to look into the face. It keeps pulling him in. His feet are off the ground. He is just about to touch the mirror's surface-

Alec woke up in his bed- heart pounding, tangled in his sheets. Dawn was coming up fast outside, turning everything gray, even the hand he put up to his face to rub his eyes. He had experienced nightmares ever since his . . . liberation from Manticore. Each one was different in situation if not in feeling. He always felt powerless in the dream, unable to stop whatever was happening. Trapped and weak.

He dealt with the dreams by not dealing with them.

Getting out of bed wearily he wandered into the bathroom for a shower that was only lukewarm. The hot water worked sporadically on a good day. And of course, since they had been up most of the night crawling through the basement of a wore house, Alec had to work that morning. Standing under the falling water, he considered calling in. Maybe he could cough miserably into the phone a little and then he could crawl back into bed and sleep uninterrupted for a few hours . . . but he decided against it. Max didn't have to work and she would probably drag him all over town to warn freaks with the new girl which didn't seem like an even trade for a few hours sleep. At least if he went into Jam Pony he would be getting paid.

Downstairs, clean and dressed, he drank a cup of coffee leaning against the kitchen counter and thought about Max's newest project. Wy. That was exactly the question. Why should they get involved? Yeah, White was a bastard. He considered it for a moment- a real bastard. But if he was busy hunting down Wy's little friends it was time he couldn't spend hunting down Alec. . . or Max or Joshua. It was hard but true. And Alec doubted any of Wy's little friends would think differently. The only way to survive was to stay under the radar. A concept Max couldn't seem to grasp.

The morning went fast- a lot of runs which Alec performed with absent-minded efficiency. Exiting the bathroom after his lunch break, he saw Max roll in. When she opened her locker, he moved to lean against the row behind her.

"You get _our new friend_," his voice twisted, "all squared away?"

Max looked up from her bag, turned her body to face him, "What's your problem now?"

He had had all morning to think about it. He pushed off the lockers casually to stand beside her as he answered, "The mission was to find the target and make sure they didn't fall into enemy hands- so why is she still here? Shouldn't she be on a bus to Saskatchewan or something?" Before Max can answer he continued, "Instead, apparently _we've_ agreed to run around the city chasing down every freak in Seattle, exposing ourselves to all kinds of trouble."

"Since when do you care about exposure, _Monty Cora_?" Max sneered.

He took her arm, pulled her around so her back was to the rest of Jam Pony and told her in a low fierce voice, "Since some psycho with a badge started exterminating barcoded freaks. The objective, in case you've forgotten _Max_, is to stay alive."

She yanked her arm out of his grasp roughly, "No, _Alec_," she told him, "the point is to live. There's a difference."

"What-"

They could hear Normal bip bip bipping loudly in the background, "Hot run!" He shouted irritably.

When Alec turned his attention back to Max she was gone. Walking to the end of the row of lockers, he watched her snatch the package out of Normal's hand without a word. Throwing one leg over her bike, she pushed off and was pedaling before she was even left the building. She didn't look back. In a rare show of temper, Alec stalked back to his locker and slammed the door shut sharply.

Max could do whatever she wanted- but he wasn't going to make the same mistakes.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day, Original Cindy watched the sweet little thing that walked into Jam Pony speculatively. Petite, curvy, dark hair cut close and wild which might indicate good news for Cindy. She wore jeans and a faded green t-shirt with what looked like a peacock on the front. A black leather jacket with a Mandarin collar covered most of the graphic. There was a wide leather cuff on her wrist. Hmm . . .

Cindy approached the girl and gave her famous introductory smile. "Hey boo, you lookin' for someone?" Preferably a down sista with a taste for flat bottomed white girls, she added to herself.

The girl gave her half a smile. Her eyes were an unusually dark shade of blue, like the jeans she wore. "Yeah, I'm looking for Alec. Do you know if he's around?"

Another of Alec's little women, Cindy thought sourly. Pretty as he was, it hardly seemed fair that he got to score so many choice chickies. Although this one didn't really seem like his type- she actually looked bright. "Yeah," Cindy admitted, "He in the back." She nodded her head over her shoulder toward the couches.

"Thanks," the girl showed her a genuine smile and walked away. Cindy watched her go and sighed. Such a shame.

Approaching from behind the couch where Alec was sitting watching TV, Wy reached out to tap him on the shoulder. He grabbed her hand just as her finger fell onto his shirt. His grip was tight before recognition washed across his face and he let go of her arm quickly, "You should know better than to sneak up on-" there was a small pause, "people."

"Whoops." Wy replied calmly as she moved around the couch and sat down on the table, leaning back on her hands. She wasn't in front of the TV but she was right next to it in his sightline. He ignored her for a minute, watching the news intently, hoping she would go away. She didn't and he looked over at her finally.

"I'm not running around Seattle looking for lizard boys- so you can just forget it." He tells her flatly.

"Max and I took care of most of that yesterday- there were only a few people we couldn't find."

"Terrific." He answers blandly, turning back to the TV.

She was still sitting there.

"You want a date or something?" He demanded, exasperated.

"What would it cost me?" She replied.

Alec smiled the tight half smile that indicated he was not at all amused and his expression went flat, "Funny. What _are_ you doing here?"

"I can't go back to telling fortunes. I need a job."

"It's the economy," he explained, "Times are tough all over." He leaned dramatically to the right to indicate he was watching the TV and not her. She leaned over too, directly in the way this time and he sighed loudly. "You're just not going to go away, are you?"

She appeared to think about it for a moment. "No." They both sat up straight again.

"So you need a job, what's that got to do with me?"

"Max suggested Jam Pony is always looking for enthusiastic young people with a bright future ahead of them."

"Applications at the desk-"

"She also suggested that it wouldn't mean much if she vouched for me but your recommendation would be worth its weight in gold."

"Max said that."

"Actually what she said was, 'I'd vouch for you but that type A, white bread, Napoleon behind the counter hates me. Ask Alec, he's Normal's little golden boy.' I was paraphrasing to spare your feelings." Wy explained. Alecs' sarcastic smile flickered on and off at the last part. He sat forward with his elbows resting on his knees.

"Well, that puts me in a difficult position- what if I vouch for you and you turn out to be shiftless? Lazy?" he looked around furtively and lowered his voice to a dramatic whisper, "What if you're- unreliable?" He sat back easily and stretched an arm along the couch back. "You see my problem. My carefully built relationship with the boss would be ruined."

"Max also said to remind you that you still owe her for that thing she did for you that time."

He opened his mouth to protest.

"and that other thing she did for you that other time-" Wy continued.

He took a breath to protest.

"and also that other other thing she did for you that other other time."

"Fine," he snapped, "Whatever- but Max and I are even from now on."

Wy held up one hand in a casual gesture, "Don't tell me about it- I'm just the messenger."

Alec would do this one thing, Normal would refuse, and he could avoid her from there on out. He stood up and nodded toward the counter, "Let's just get this over with."

Normal was bip, bip, bipping two other messengers so they had to wait a minute for his attention. Wy stood patiently with her arms crossed while Alec ignored her and attempted to indicate to any of the young women within eyesight that he didn't know her, had never seen her, and would hardly even notice her in the street if he ran her over with his bike. When Normal finished browbeating the two young men, Alec turned finally and gave Normal a big charming smile. "Hey, Normal! How's it going?"

Normal approximated a smile that looked more like a grimace and replied, "Terrible. I'm surrounded by shiftless," his voice increased in volume, "lazy," he leaned out over the counter, "unreliable bums!" He was practically shouting at this point. His voice returned to usual when he turned back to Alec. "Present company excluded of course."

Alec put a hand on his chest and smiled modestly. Wy watched the whole exchange with an expression of mild fascination, her head turning back and forth as the two men spoke to each other. "So listen," Alec put a friendly hand on Wy's shoulder and squeezed deliberately, feeling her tense up under his grip, "this is an old friend of mine I wanted you to meet. Wy this is Normal. Normal, Wy."

"Any friend of Alec's is a friend of mine." Normal reached out and shook her hand. "Pleased to meet you, Miss . . ." Alec looked a little blank before Wy interjected smoothly.

"O'Neil. Wy O'Neil."

"Miss O'Neil." Normal nodded politely.

"I was just telling Wy how Jam Pony is always looking for more help," Normal's expression turned dubious and on the inside Alec smiled, "and I thought maybe you might consider giving her a chance. Maybe." He added.

The other man made a pained face, "I'm sure you're a terrific worker-" Normal smiled at the girl condescendingly, "any friend of Alec's . . . but I don't know how it would look, me hiring you right off the street. I can't be seen to play favorites," He explained, in contradiction to almost every action he took on a daily basis. God bless you- you type A, white-bread, Napoleon, Alec thought happily. Normal turned his polite smile toward Alec but before he could dismiss them, Wy interrupted.

"Mr. Normal, I know how difficult it must be to manage such a busy and productive business," Normal looked surprised and then gratified. "and I'm sure you have to screen potential employees very carefully." Wy took a deep breath and gave the man behind the counter a pretty winning smile. "I'm not looking for a hand-out. I just want an opportunity to prove myself to you. I'm a hard worker and a fast learner- please, give me a chance. One week on probationary status and if you're not happy with my performance, I swear I'll thank you and walk out that door quietly. What do you say?"

Alec listened to this little speech with amazement which only increased when he looked over at Normal and saw that it was working.

Oh, Crap.

"Oh, alright," Normal agreed and Wy's smile turned brilliant, "One week! Then we'll see." The gruff tone was back.

"Thank you, sir! Thank-you, I won't let you down!" She gushed and Alec raised an eyebrow.

Normal nodded uncomfortably, "Yes, alright- you're welcome. Alec will show you the ropes. You start tomorrow, eight a.m. sharp! Now if you'll excuse me . . ." Wy nodded, still smiling and Normal turned back to his packages. They moved away from the counter and the girls' enthusiastic smile slipped off her face.

"Nice snow job." Alec told her sourly.

She shrugged, "Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do."


	4. Chapter 4, Part I

**Chap. 4, Part I –**

Alec had a few suggestions about what she could do- but his pocket began to vibrate abruptly, demanding his attention. Pulling his phone out impatiently, he said into the receiver, "Yeah?"

"Hey, it's me." Max sounded as charmingly terse as ever. "You still at Jam Pony?"

"Yep."

"Is Wy with you?"

His eyes flicked over to the girl where she was casually surveying their surroundings. He recognized the look- she was checking for exits, taking a head count, and probably sizing up any potential threats. He did the same thing. They probably all did. "Yeah, she's here. Thanks a lot, by the way." He added.

"No problem." She replied, "Logan got some more off the copy. Bring her over." The phone went dead in his hand. Scowling down at it for a second, Alec considered calling Max back and explaining to her that he wasn't her bitch- and or a damn tour guide. But instead he put the phone back in his pocket. Arguing would only be a waste of energy- it was easier to take a little ride downtown than to fight Max about something so small. It didn't mean he had to like it though.

When he looked up at Wy he found her staring at him with that strange watching expression- like the first night when he had asked her if she was an assassin- and she had looked at him like she could see right through his eyes to the back of his skull and read all the thoughts stuck in between. She broke their eye contact, glancing down at his right hand clenched into a fist. He relaxed his fingers abruptly.

"It was Max." She observed.

He nodded, shoving his hand into the pocket of his jacket. "Yeah. Logan found some more stuff on the tape. We're supposed to head over there."

She zipped up her jacket and nodded to him to lead the way.

"Who's Logan?" She asked as they left Jam Pony.

Answering in his most laconic voice, Alec replied, "Max's forbidden love."

She was watching him again. He could practically feel it. "The two of you can rap about saving the world-" He added sarcastically, "you'll get along _great_."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the elevator of Logan's apartment building, Alec leaned back against the wall, feigning boredom. When he glanced over at Wy though, she wasn't paying any attention to him. Instead she was standing away from the wall, holding the railing with pale tight fingers. Her face seemed a little stiff, though it was almost impossible to tell what she was feeling with her hair masking in her eyes and that expression- that _other_ annoying expression that was impossible to read. The red numbers on the pad near the door continued to count upward.

Eventually he asked, "Don't like elevators?"

"I don't like enclosed spaces," She admitted, watching the floor numbers out of the corner of her eye.

The elevator came to a halt and the door chimed in the tasteful and restrained sort of way that only money could buy. Alec made a grand, slightly mocking gesture indicating that Wy could exit before him. When she stepped out into Logan's apartment, he could see her relax ever so slightly.

In the next room, Max was sitting almost exactly ten feet away from Logan, in complete silence and when the other two transgenics entered the happy couple was busy acting like they were trying _not_ to act like something was being interrupted. Alec rolled his eyes. You'd have to be dead not to feel the tension between the two of them.

Glancing up, Max nodded to them both and gave them the usual 'hey'. She indicated Logan in his chair in front of the computer and told Wy. "This is Logan. He's a . . . friend."

Alec snorted. Logan's head turned toward him ever so slightly before he carefully pretended he hadn't heard.

"Hey." Wy said, as though she hadn't noticed the tense and complicated atmosphere she had walked into.

"This is Wy." Max introduced the other girl to Logan and paused for a second, anticipating some sort of reaction to the odd name.

Logan gave the girl a pleasant smile and nod. Noticing the silence and seeming to understand it's origin he said, "What? It seems like a reasonable question." Max gave him a startled look and he cleared his throat hastily and moved on in his usual professor voice. "We got the copy with a directed high res recorder at thirty yards across a street. Because of the traffic we couldn't capture all of the conversation but using enhancement software I managed to clean up some of the static on the copy we actually have-"

He leaned over and tapped a key on his computer. There was a scratchy sound like soft rain on a window but a faint voice emerged almost immediately, "-male, late teens early twenties, designation W3-" The rainy sound swelled and the voice became unintelligible again.

At the words 'designation W3' Wy turned her head to look out the windows across the living room. Leaning casually against the wall on the other side of the room, Alec could see a pale slice of her face gazing past him. It looked as cold and rigid and distant as the moon. He watched her as the rest of the conversation played out.

She never took her eyes off the windows.

If she had shown any emotion- pain, regret, anger- he would have looked away but she didn't or wouldn't and he watched intently, waiting for it to happen. Her expression reminded him of the silent moment that would overtake a bar just before a fight, after the unbearable insult was said but before the first punch was thrown and the whole world seemed to hold its' breath waiting for the inevitable.

"-threw itself onto the apparatus-" said the cool voice on the tape.

Then there was an instant- when Wy's impenetrable calm was snagged and he saw bone-deep pain, as fierce and sharp as lightning, before it was covered again. Alec jerked his head away but it was already too late. He couldn't un-see that moment: her pale and cracked open like an egg, the pain showing clearly.

Everyone was silent when the copy stopped.

"Do you know who they were talking about?" Logan asked finally.

Wy turned her head back toward the group, "Kai." She said and his name seemed to sit in the middle of the floor between them.

"Are you sure?"

The question elicited a brief bitter smile. "Yes. Male late teens, early twenties, designation W3-217. Jungle infantry." She added, her voice strung tight.

"Sorry," Max said the expected thing first, "about your friend."

"Well, if I can't bury him," Wy observed, "at least I know _he's been sent for processing with the others_."

Even Max flinched at the tone of her voice.

Wy's eyes fell shut. When she opened them again she was composed, "What do we do now?" she asked.

"There's nothing to do. You go to work, keep your head down and when things are quiet again, you should probably get out of town." Max told her.

"No." Wy said simply and Alec saw Logan blink and give the girl a surprised look. Alec could understand the sentiment, not many people ever contradicted Max so bluntly. Wy continued, "Like I said before, I'm not a fully functional super-model slash super solider but I can track transgenics for miles on a good day. I can _smell_ lies- I can be useful."

"This isn't some kind of club- we don't ride around in a van with a talking dog looking for haunted houses." Max told her coldly.

"Well, there is Joshua-" Alec said, still leaning against the wall, "but no van." He added when Max turned her glare on him.

Max continued, "This ain't the revolution- we're just trying to stay alive and maybe help some other folks stay alive too."

"You think I don't know that?" Wy asked Max coolly, "I understand the stakes here- and if you won't let me help you, I'll just go back to doing it on my own."

Logan stepped in before Max could reply, "Maybe," he said quietly, giving her a significant look, "it's not such a bad idea. You can't do everything- this is a big fight- you're going to need allies."

"I don't need help from reckless people lookin' for revenge, trying to get themselves and maybe me and my friends killed."

Wy's voice was quiet but insistent, "This isn't about revenge." Alec doubted it. "Besides, how are you going to keep me out of it?"

"She could smack your bitch head in." Alec suggested.

"Damn straight I could- wait-" Max turned to look at him. "You think this is a bad idea?"

"Oh, yeah-"

The corners of her mouth turned down in a fierce scowl, "Crap. If _he's_," she indicated Alec with a jerk of her head, "against it then maybe it's not such a bad idea after all."

"Hey!" His voice was loud and indignant but everyone ignored him.

Max was glaring at Wy who returned the look blandly. "It might be that we could use a little help sometimes . . . sometimes."

"You'll give me a shot?"

"Yeah- but you'll take your cues from me, got that?"

"Fine."

"Okay."

With that settled, Wy said her goodbyes, "I'll be going now- I have some things to take care of." Pausing at the door, she turned back toward Logan, "Thank-you." She nodded to Max as though to include her in the thanks as well. Glancing briefly at Alec, she added, "See you tomorrow." And she was gone out the door.

"Looking forward to it." He replied dryly. Behind his back, Max and Logan exchanged a glance.


	5. Chapter 4, Part II

**Chap. 4, Part II-**

Wy was already at Jam Pony, standing in front of her new locker, when Alec arrived the next morning. She had the look of someone who hadn't slept well- disheveled and indifferent. Her head was bowed over her bag as she dug around for something and her hair slipped forward to hide her face. But that posture was somehow more revealing than looking into her eyes would have been. He could see, suddenly, all the way down deep- like last night to the bleeding place inside her. Her shoulders were bowed like there was some weight pushing her down and one of her knees was pressed into the hard wood of the bench so firmly it must have been leaving a dent but she didn't move it away.

When she lifted her head again to shove something into her locker, it was gone. Alec felt almost dizzy. Was it real? She was like a mirage: you could never see clearly by looking straight at her- all you got was a haze and a confusion of colors. But out of the corner of your eye, she would sometimes come together as a whole. What else was she hiding at right angles to the world?

It was almost like she could feel his eyes on her, she looked up so quickly. "Oh, it's you." She observed without enthusiasm.

So it was going to be like that.

Alec sauntered over to lean against the locker next to her. "Nice to see you, too." He said, deliberately crowding her.

She slammed the locker door shut, hard and loud right next to his ear and he jerked back with a wince.

Giving her a dirty look, he rubbed his ear pointedly. Rolling off the locker, he said, "C'mon. I'll introduce you to your new and glamorous career as a Jam Pony messenger."

Stepping over to the counter, he picked up the packet Normal had thrown together for her. "Sector pass," Alec held the little piece of plastic up. "Here's your clip board-" He shoved the metal folder at her, "always get a signature. Don't forget to tell them you're from Jam Pony. And be polite," He gave her a wide fake grin, "you get better tips."

"That's it?"

"It ain't exactly genetic engineering, sweetheart."

Wy glanced down at the package in her hand and Alec turned to walk away, when he heard her murmur, 'Sector Four'. He turned back around abruptly.

"Where's your first run?" He demanded.

"1475 Chestnut. Sector four."

Alec paused a second to think, wracked with indecision. Damn- all he wanted to do was get away from her but . . . Sector Four. He needed to get down there. Going on an actual delivery would provide good cover.

"On second thought," He announced, deciding suddenly. "I'll go with you. I may have glossed over some of the more complicated aspects of the job in my little orientation. I should come along and make sure you've got it down." He gave Wy one of his sideways 'just between us' smiles that had weakened the knees of half Seattle's women.

It's only visible effect on Wy was to cause one of her eyebrows to rise before she asked, "What's in it for you?"

Alec grabbed his chest with one hand as though she had wounded him, "Oh, ouch. Maybe, I just want to help out a fellow human being. I'm turning over a new leaf." His voice got increasingly more dramatic as he went on, "You and Max's remarkable example has inspired me, I want to feel that warm glow you get from giving selflessly of yourself-"

She looked up straight into his face. For once he could see both of her eyes clearly. Right then they were grave . . . and angry, "It's all just a big joke to you isn't it? Must be nice sitting on the sidelines- so superior, so safe, because you never really risk anything."

For a second, Alec felt like a pane of glass, see-through and brittle. He had to say something, "Look, kitten-" He began.

"Ride along, whatever." She agreed turning away from him in contempt, "but don't think you're sharing my tips."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a silent tense ride to sector four over streets still wet from the previous night's rain. Alec entertained himself by studying the buildings they passed and debating the best way to break into them. Luckily, the weather was actually nice. The previous night's rain had given way to clear blue skies and the usually dirty streets seemed washed clean- or at least cleaner. It was a day full of possibilities. For Alec it was full of the possibility of good money if this mornings deal went through. That thought and the sunshine made him smile, despite the cool company of the girl on the bike next to him. What had he said that was so bad anyway? So he was giving her a little crap about her St. Teresa complex, big deal. Who cared- it occurred to him that it was just last night that she had learned her friend was dead, probably because he was trying to protect her.

Okay, so maybe he had stepped in it a little.

But he hadn't meant to.

It was almost as though she could read his thoughts because she spoke up suddenly to ask, "If you don't care about anything or anyone, why did you help Max get the mer-girl out of that bar?"

"She was hot- the mer-girl." He quantified, "To bad about the mer-man." He observed in a voice full of regret, "She and I could have really had something."

"What mer-man? I didn't hear about another one."

"He was her mate. When she got snagged by those fishermen he came on land to try and bring her back." He shook his head a little over the confusion that had caused- a sloppy operation. Their trainers would not have been impressed.

"So what happened?"

He looked over at her, his eyebrow raised slightly. Why was she so interested? "Not much," He shrugged, "He got in our way, then we got in his way and while we were busy sorting that out, White came in and grabbed her." Alec negotiated his way around a particularly large pothole, "We had to sneak into his base to get her back." When he looked over at her, she turned her head hastily. He frowned outright at that but she didn't ask anymore questions so he shrugged and let it go.

They were almost on top of the warehouse that he needed to make his drop at before he noticed, "I need to make a quick stop-" he told her, "since we're down here already."

"Of course you do." She sounded unsurprised.

He led her to a heavy door around the side of the old concrete warehouse. The outer walls were covered in colorful and often misspelled graffiti, accompanied by amateur artwork. Studying some of it absently, Wy observed in a voice that was at first startled and then critical, "I don't think a person can actually physically do that."

Pausing, Alec glanced up at the red painted suggestion she was scrutinizing, "You could if you had enough practice-" He considered it for a second, "but where are you gonna get a duck in this economy?" He rapped sharply on the door in a series of pre-arranged staccato notes. With a snap, a little hatch set in the about three quarters of the way up the door came open. Dark eyes in a dark face glared out at them.

"Yeah?" Demanded a voice from behind the door.

"I'm here to see Shiny George." Alec told the voice coolly. The eyes watched him for a moment before the trapdoor slammed shut and the actual door opened, revealing a heavyset man with a large gold hoop in one ear. "I'll be out in a few minutes," Alec told Wy quietly.

"The girl comes in." Said the doorman flatly.

Alec gave him a smile, "Look man, she's just along for the ride-"

"Don't matter. Boss don't want nobody hangin' round outside letting everybody know what's going down here."

Alec stopped smiling and glanced at Wy. She shrugged.

"Fine." He agreed sourly.

They wheeled their bikes through the door and the guard nodded to a bare space of wall just inside where they could leave them. The interior of the warehouse was stacked high with crates, creating hallways and rooms inside without the inconvenience of walls. Looking around in a subtle sort of way at all the boxes, Alec felt his fingers twitch a little. What would a gangster keep in his warehouse? Valuable merchandise, probably, the kind to keep in mind for a later date.

The doorman walked them down a narrow corridor that opened into a fairly large space free of crates. Set up in the space was a card table and one aging couch. Around the table sat three of the usual muscular type henchmen, covered with dark spiky tattoos and gold jewelry, playing cards. There was another gang-banger on the couch 'reading' what looked like a nudie magazine.

The fifth man in the room was not a grunt. For starters, he was the only one wearing a suit jacket and he was very large- tall, wide, and beefy, almost fat. The doorman approached him and leaned down to speak quietly. The man nodded once and the doorman retreated back among the boxes. When the gangster stood, Alec got an eyeful of bling- more on this one guy than all the others put together. That explained why they call him Shiny George, Alec thought to himself. Shiny George opened his mouth to speak and Alec could see two rows of gold teeth, top and bottom.

"You the delivery man I was tol' to expect?"

Alec nodded, "Yep- Freddie over at the Black Dragon told me you were in the market for certain items."

"Yeah. Heard you was the man to go to for the hard to find."

Alec felt a small touch on his back, like one finger near his spine. He ignored it, "That's me. If you have any other needs of a similar nature, we might be able to arrange a regular delivery."

"That's a possibility."

The touch came again, only this time it was more of a poke. He gave Shiny George a quick smile, "Excuse me just a minute- I need to confer with my colleague." Smile firmly in place, he took Wy by the elbow and marched her a few feet away to stand next to the wall of crates. The smile frayed a little when he looked at her. "What is your problem? I'm in the middle of a deal here."

"This is a mistake."

"Listen- new girl," His voice was impatient, "I know you can hear a mouse fart in construction zone or whatever but this is business- my business. So why don't you just stand over here," he pushed her gently a few feet to the left until she was just inches away from the crates and boxes and she actually allowed it, "and stay quiet?"

Her eyes moved past him to study the man just a few feet away and then returned to rest on his face. Her nose actually twitched briefly, "He's lying."

"Of course he's lying- he's a criminal." He smile turned condescending, "Look, I've got this covered- so just relax."

He was sure she would argue but instead she shrugged and leaned back against the boxes casually, "Okay." She agreed.

Alec turned back to Shiny George, "So, I've got the goods, as requested-" He rested a hand over his heart and the envelope in his interior pocket, "now all I need is my money." He gave the gangster and his muscle an easy confident smile.

Shiny G. returned the smile but there was an edge to his expression Alec recognized only too well. Of course it could be all those gold teeth.

"We got your money- three hundred dollars."

Alec's smile never wavered, "I'm sorry- sometimes my ears stop working for a second. I thought you said three hundred dollars- but that can't be right because Freddie and I agreed on five hundred last week."

"That was last week." Shiny George was not smiling now.

"A deal's a deal."

"This is my neighborhood- you wanna do business here- you do it my way. The price is three hundred dollars." Behind the big man there was a series of sounds, of chair legs scraping the floor and the creak of couch springs as every guy in the place got to his feet and came to stand behind the boss. Alec's eyes slid over each of them, evaluating size and strength and deciding who was most likely packing.

"I'll tell you what," He said, his eyes returning to the boss, "let's make it four hundred dollars- that cuts into my profits but we'll call it a good faith gesture in anticipation of future business. How about it?"

"How about my boys take you apart, take the goods, and then take yo' girl? How 'bout that?"

Alec glanced over at Wy and she raised an eyebrow at him as though to say, 'What did I tell you?'.

"For another fifty," He observed dryly, "you can have her."

Shiny George began to reach under his suit jacket but Alec was already moving. He took the gun out of the bigger man's hand and still holding his wrist, rolled in to elbow him sharply in the face. Gold teeth disappeared under a flow of blood. Every man in the warehouse surged forward and the fight began in earnest.

Tossing the piece away, Alec grabbed onto the gangster's heavy lapels. He pivoted and released, throwing Shiny G. into one of his own lieutenants. Tangled together they fell heavily but the X5 didn't pause long enough to watch. He disarmed a third man, probably breaking his opponents' wrist in the process. Using the butt of the gun, he struck the man sharply in the face, before releasing the clip and tossing the two separated halves of the gun away. The next man actually managed to land a punch- hitting Alec near the kidney but he hardly noticed. He was engulfed by the fierce joy he always felt in a fight- the clarity and power- the sense of absolute control. He was grinning, he could feel it. He bared his teeth and let the smile widen.

Blocking the next punch, Alec responded with a back-handed blow that threw the man backwards into the table which collapsed in a spray of playing cards and chips. A kick to the gut of the next man, followed by a fist to the head ended the fight as quickly as it had begun. Alec smiled at the sudden quiet devastation he had caused and rolled his shoulder to settle the material of his jacket. They hadn't provided much of a challenge for gangsters but it was fun while it lasted he supposed.

There was a sound at his back and he turned quickly to see a sixth man lying on the floor behind him.

"Where'd he come from?" He asked with a frown.

"Up front." Wy nodded in the direction of the entrance. Pushing the man onto his back with his foot, Alec recognized the bloodied face of the doorman. Probably heard the sounds of the fight and hurried up to see what all the noise was.

"What happened to him?" Alec asked, curious.

"He tripped and fell and then I guess his face must have hit my boot accidentally." Sliding the hair out of her eye with a delicate touch, Wy glanced around at the other men, unconscious or groaning on the cement floor around them. "I told you so." She said.

"These things happen sometimes-" He answered, "you know, in business," Alec walked over to Shiny George where he lay on his back on the hard floor. The blood from his nose and mouth had rolled over his cheeks to drip onto the cement. Leaning over, Alec rifled through the gangsters' jacket and eventually came up holding a white envelope. It contained nearly a thousand dollars. Alec counted five hundred off in clear precise voice and then another three hundred, "For my trouble." He explained to the prone gangster. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you." He added, reaching into the pocket of his own jacket to pull out a small package. He dropped it and the now much lighter envelope onto the big man's belly and walked away, whistling.

Outside with their bikes, Alec nodded down the street, "1475's thataway- take a right at the end of the street and then a left." He turned his bike in the opposite direction. "If all else fails, I'm sure you can _sniff_ it out."

"Taught me everything you know already?" She asked.

Coasting away on his bike, he said over his shoulder, "Why should I teach you anything? You won't share your tips with me, remember?"

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Later that day, after a uneventful afternoon of deliveries, restless and itchy, Alec stopped in at Crash. He was half-hoping he might manage a hookup but the crowd there was getting a little stale. The girls had seen him lay down his game one too many times to be taken in easily, despite his charming smile. Alec chatted with a few people casually but after a few beers and a couple of cold receptions, he decided to call it a night.

He headed home through the fuzzy quiet dusk.

When he got in he found Joshua sitting at the kitchen table in a state of near ecstasy, surrounded by Little Debbie wrappers.

"Hey Josh," He greeted the big man, "Max been by?"

Joshua shook his head, "Nope. Wy."

"Wy?" Couldn't he get away from her? "What was _she_ doing here?"

"Wanted to say 'Thank-you'."

"Well, wasn't that polite of her." He said dryly, "Thank-you for what?"

"Letting her stay the night. Had some tea- talked. She brought snack cakes." He added, his eyes going wide as his head rolled back for emphasis. Alec gave a sideways smile. The big guy would sell his soul for snack cakes.

Wait a second- Alec frowned suddenly. "What did you two kids talk about?"

Joshua shrugged and licked a little imitation chocolate product off one sharp nailed finger. "Lots of stuff."

"World affairs? Astrophysics?" Alec suggested, "Who makes the best dog biscuits?" That earned him a glare and the ghost of a snarl.

"Books," Joshua told him, "Myths. Mermaids."

"Mermaids." Alec repeated, "What about mermaids?"

Joshua shrugged, popping the last of a cake into his mouth.

"What about mermaids?" Alec repeated.

"Told how you and Max saved mermaid."

Some things began to fall into place, "Where we found her? Did you tell Wy where White was keeping her?"

"Maybe-"

"Oh, _shit_." Snatching up his jacket, Alec turned and rushed back out the door. Joshua looked startled and then his eyes fell onto another little cake, neat and perfect in its' little cellophane package. Shrugging, he reached out and snagged the treat.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chap. 5-**

Alec caught up with Wy at the perimeter fence. She was standing in a wedge of shadow between the reach of the two lights, staring at the old plant. Approaching from behind, he could see the rigid set of her shoulders even under her jacket and the careful way her feet were planted as though she was prepared to stand there all night. She was probably timing the sentries, Alec thought. Not a pebble- not even a blade of grass shifted under his feet to give warning as he came up behind her. He moved as silently unseen as a shark, just the way he had been trained but she still turned before he could reach her and observed coldly, "I don't remember inviting you."

"I don't think they make invitations for acts of suicidal stupidity." He answered in a soft sarcastic voice.

Wy ignored the sarcasm, turning her face if not her body back towards the plant and Alec had to repress the urge to take her by the shoulders and shake her 'till her head fell off. Instead he snapped in a low voice, "C'mon- we're leaving."

"See you later." She said casually, still peering through the fence.

"Oh no," He whispered furiously, "You know where I live, where Joshua lives, where Max and I work- And _unfortunately_, if you get caught now, we're all pretty much screwed. You're going too- if I have to knock you unconscious and drag you out of here."

"That would definitely get us caught," Wy replied, crossing her arms against her chest, "I'd resist and the noise would bring every guard in the place." Even with the limitations of his night vision, Alec could see her jaw was set hard as the concrete under their feet.

He was silent for a moment: furious and even more furious because she was right. They would get caught and then what would they say? Sorry, we were just lost?

Wy could see his indecision- she turned back to the fence.

The fingers of Alec's right hand curled into a fist. She thought she had _him_ beat?

Tipping his head back, Alec opened his mouth and began to sing at the top of his lungs. The sudden loud sound of his voice brought Wy whirling around and the look of surprise on her face was worth almost anything that could happen next. Throwing an arm around the girl and pulling her close, Alec continued to sing, his body language clumsy and sloppy. Wy struggled for a moment to stay on her feet as he put most of his greater body weight against her, deliberately keeping her off balance.

"What are you doing?" She hissed.

He took a theatrical breath and murmured underneath it, "Go with it." before continuing his song. He gave her a mocking wink just to watch her eyes narrow.

Hearing boot treads, Wy glanced around frantically as three heavily armed guards converged on their position. Their guns were up, pointing at the two trangenics on the other side of the fence and the guard in the middle barked, "This is a private facility! State your business here!"

Alec's song trailed off and he frowned confusedly at the men. "What?" He pushed away from Wy gently, shifting his weight to lean against the fence. He actually put his nose through a hole in the links as he studied the man who had spoken. "This isn't the club," He observed. He turned to frown at Wy, arms extended over his head and his fingers woven into the links. As he leaned back against the fence, the metal gave a little and his eyes went wide, "Whoa-" Hurrying forward, Wy pulled him off the fence as the guards moved up aggressively, "Why isn't this the club?" Alec asked her.

She ignored the question, staring instead at the barrels pointing at their vital organs.

"State your business!" The guard demanded again.

Fumbling awkwardly with Alecs' arm across her shoulders, she attempted to keep them both upright. Her voice shook wildly when she answered the guard, "We just- we were looking for this new club my girl Tanya told us about- she said it was on 10th." There were tears in her voice, "But, but he just had to go to the bar first and then we turned right only I think we shoulda gone left. Back there-" She glanced desperately behind them. There was a moment of tense silence in which Alec put his other arm around her and leaned his cheek against her hair as though he was suddenly impossibly weary. Her shoulder bone was poking him in the chest just below the hollow of his throat and even the round hip pressed into his thigh was stiff. And she continued to watch the guards with her eyes wide and terrified.

The man in the middle lowered his gun unexpectedly and the two guards on either side did likewise. "Get out of here." He jerked his head sharply. "Don't come back."

Wy nodded hastily and began to tug Alec away while he complained loudly about how she always got them lost. He kept up the steady stream of drunken criticisms and clumsy movements as they passed down the dark streets. When she was sure they were out of earshot, Wy pushed Alec off roughly, causing her to stumble a little as she turned on him, "Get off me!"

"That's okay-" He replied, straightening. "don't say thanks or anything." He pulled his shirt and jacket back into neat order, frowning down at himself critically as he wiped a bit of dirt off the leather.

"What should I thank you for? You ruined my only chance to get in there- I can't go back now."

"Whoops," He replied coldly. If looks could kill, Wys' expression would be bludgeoning him to death with a rock. But she had the same training he had; she wouldn't make the tactical error of taking on an enemy she knew she couldn't neutralize. Instead she glared fiercely at him before turning sharply to walk away.

"You're good, ya know?" Alec called mockingly to her retreating back, "I lie to Max every chance I get but she never believes it. But you with your big eyes and your sob story- you played her like a banjo." That slowed her angry walk so he added in a high mocking voice, "_Oh, this isn't about revenge_."

Spinning around sharply, she almost screamed, "_It's not!"_ And for a second, they both looked surprised. The sound of her shout reverberated between the buildings, bouncing between the walls like a ball before dying finally. "I didn't go there for revenge." She repeated stiffly into the sudden quiet, tugged back towards him.

"Why then? Your friend the lizard boy is dead-" He added harshly.

"Kai." Wy stopped just inside the pool of light he stood in, poised to move back into the shadows. Illumination from the streetlamp poured down on Alec's face from above, casting him stark and dangerous as an Old Testament angel.

"What?" He asked.

"His name was Kai." Wy told him. She looked reluctant, like something was holding her there in front of him against her will. Her voice was shaking a little, "He was a person- he loved lime jell-o and punk music and rain. He was _a person_- and no one but me will ever remember those details about him- that stuff that made him more than just a thing to be used."

Alec frowned at her intently, trying to understand what they were talking about exactly. "So the two of you . . ." He waved his hand vaguely.

Wys' expression went blank for a moment. When his meaning hit her, she shook her head impatiently, "No." Looking away like she was hoping the right words were hidden in the darkness, she added, "he was . . . family."

"Family." The word tasted flat and heavy on his tongue. "Made in the same test tube doesn't equal brothers and sisters and cousins and great- uncle Lesters."

Her face turned back to his, her expression sharp again, "Of course- nobody matters to you- not Max or Joshua or anybody, right? That's why you're out here, because you only care about yourself."

That's right- He was _always_ alright because he only cared about himself. . . A sweet heart shaped face imposed itself in front of his eyes for a moment.

_No_.

He wouldn't think about that now.

"I've about memorized this speech-" To interrupt his own thoughts, Alec told her in a sing-song voice, "'I'm self-center, callous, and inconsiderate'." His top lip curled in a sneer, "Like you're such a humanitarian. You used Joshua this morning- stuffing him with snack cakes till he told you what you wanted to know."

She didn't like that, he could tell- and he smiled grimly. She wasn't completely opaque after all. "I had to do that." Wy insisted, "I needed-"

"What?"he demanded, his frustration and confusion showing, "What was the _point_ of trying to get in there?"

She wouldn't respond and he was about to reach out and grab her arm, to insist on an answer when she replied, "I just wanted . . ."

"_What?"_

"I don't know," She sounded angry . . . and then weary and confused, "to see where he died maybe." As she rubbed one eyebrow with the heel of her hand, she added in a soft bitter voice, "It doesn't matter." She turned and started to walk away again.

Memory, Alec knew, was a strange creature- a hodgepodge of sights and smells, feelings and impressions- memory was a manticore, strange and deadly. There was something about Wys' suppressed rage and her weariness that was familiar, that tugged forth the monsters lurking in the dark parts of his head._ He remembered standing in front of Rachels' father, thinking that death might be the same as atonement._

He had built walls in his mind to keep the memories at bay. Like any dangerous creature, they had to be caught and corralled and penned into submission. But sometimes they escaped their cages.

Alec glared fiercely at the girls' retreating back, clinging desperately to the moment in front of him. He focused on what she said: that it didn't matter- she could have gotten them all killed but it didn't matter. There was anger prowling around in his head too, trying to push its' way forward and that he allowed- he understood anger.

He caught up with her a half a block away.

Wy was short but she moved fast. Alec dogged her steps, keeping up even in the dark cluttered streets. "You didn't want to even the score?" He mocked her, "They threw your friend away like garbage, didn't they? They tortured him into betraying you-" _Psychological conditioning they called it- pain as well as sleep and sensory deprivation accompanied by images and words repeated endlessly- words like 'duty', 'mission', 'objective'. Words that hid other words that were less palatable like 'murder' and 'innocent'. They made sure you believed you had no choice- they made sure you didn't even know choice was possible. _

"Kai wouldn't-" She protested and when she looked over at him, he could see her face flashing pale as they stepped in and out of the dim streetlights.

"Of course he would- anyone would! They brought out the straps and the knives-" _The lasers and electrodes-_

She was shaking her head, walking faster, trying not to hear, trying to pretend that what he said didn't matter.

_A locket dangling from a silver chain- spinning gently in front of him- _It didn't matter. He continued his diatribe mercilessly. "They cut him and he bleed and he begged but they wouldn't stop- they just kept at it, asking question after-"

"Shut up." She took a corner abruptly, trying to ditch him.

"He tried to fight. He pulled at the straps-" _They held him back. He tried to run to her but they wouldn't let him go, their hands like shackles so he couldn't reach her._

"Shut up!" She turned on him, shoving him hard against the wall, her hands tangled in his shirt. They were looking into each others eyes for just a moment, for just a second and Alec felt a sharp piercing shock that he was looking into blue eyes not dark brown.

She wheeled away from him, panting, her forehead pressed against the cold wall next to him. "You don't understand- he needed me and _I wasn't there_."

_Piano music, sweet and fierce the way a kiss should be._

Wy pounded the cement with one small fist. "Kai started the outreach-" the words tumbled out like a confession, "I never intended- I helped him because I couldn't_ not_ help him. But he wouldn't believe that I was just another person trying to get by. They're not like us-" She told him in a surprisingly earnest voice, turning her face toward him as though she actually wanted him to understand, "most of the freaks. They weren't made to be officers and make decisions. They're designed and conditioned to take orders. I never went looking for anyone- Kai just kept finding them and bringing them home like lost puppies. He seemed to think I could fix anything. So I did . . . because I didn't want to disappoint him." There was a small pause and she said so softly he almost couldn't hear, "I wonder- did he sit in that room thinking I was going to come through the door any minute and save him again? Was he waiting for me to come along and fix everything?"

Alec closed his eyes against the sight of her bowed head and the sight of Rachel, _her white hand on the pink bedspread and the iv in her arm that they fed her with_. "He's not in that room anymore." He told her. "There's nothing you can do for him now." She's not in that room anymore, he told himself.

There was a long moment of absolute quiet in which you could not even hear their mutual breathing.

"No." She admitted eventually, "He's not."

But I am.

The thought hung between them- two people trapped by things that couldn't be changed. When Wy met his eyes again, something passed between them . . . maybe it was recognition. Not so different, you and me, the look said.

The girl broke their eye contact, rolling so that her shoulder was leaning against the wall instead of her hands and her face. "Are you going to tell Max?" She asked eventually.

"Are you going to go back there again?"

"No," The word was so heavy and brittle when it fell out of her mouth, Alec half-expected it to make a shattering sound on the roadway between them.

"I'll think about it." He told her.

She nodded, apparently not expecting anything more.

Alec walked her the rest of the way home for no reason he could think of except that it was better to move than to think anymore tonight. Her place was located in an abandoned warehouse not too far from downtown. In an alley on the west side of her building, they both paused at the door and Wy fumbled in her pocket for the key to the padlock.

In his head, Alec prepared a crack to derail the embarrassing thank-you he was sure was coming. When she got the door open and turned back to him, he opened his mouth to deliver the joke but heard his voice say instead, "You did what you could."

The corner of her mouth rose, twisted, "Did I? Then why's he dead?" The door made a deep echoing sound when it closed behind her.

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The next day at Jam Pony, Alec stared at the TV stubbornly, ignoring anything happening inside his head.

Max sat down beside him abruptly, a bouncy little move probably intended to irritate him, "So you and question girl getting along alright?" She asked with a smile that was just a little evil.

He could tell her- maybe he should tell her about what had happened last night.

He remembered Wy, 'He needed me'.

"Just fine." He answered smoothly- just to be contrary, just so she wouldn't have the satisfaction of seeing him annoyed.

"Great-" She turned toward him, pulling one knee up onto the couch between them, "you two can do me a little favor . . ."


	7. Chapter 6

Authors' Note: As I'm sure you've noticed I haven't updated this fic in a while. I suddenly came to realize that is because Chapter Six was all wrong. And in a fervor I re-wrote it completely. Here is Chapter Six as it was always meant to be. Please disregard the previous posting of it and I apologize profoundly for any confusion this might cause. Sorry, sorry, sorry! Sometimes writing isn't a smooth clear path.

**Chap. 6-**.

"Rachel!" Alec sat up in bed, panting, desperately trying to get air. His reaching fingers closed on nothing. He couldn't get to her. _He couldn't get to her_. The explosion happened again and again and nothing ever changed but the expression on her face just before the shock wave hit her: sometimes angry and betrayed, sometimes afraid, sometimes sad and wounded. That look- with her eyes wide and disappointed and needing- was like a knife in his chest. If he could only get to her . . . but it was just another dream.

It had been a whole week since the last nightmare- the longest gap for awhile. Maybe that's why this one hits so hard.

Or maybe it hit him so hard because of last night and all the memories it had stirred up against his will.

There was no way he was going back to sleep tonight. Alec grabbed his coat and walked out the door blindly.

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Alec surveyed the bar fuzzily and then rubbed his eyes with a rough clumsy hand. When this failed to clear his vision he shrugged and squinted hard, trying to push the inhabitants of the bar into focus. His eyes landed on a group of burly fisherman crowded into a booth in the corner. Judging by the sticky glasses and empty bottles littering their table they'd been at it for quite a while.

Perfect.

Standing, he swayed his way over to their table. "Excuse me . . ."

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Alec could taste blood in his mouth, tinny and sharp and familiar. He leaned against a light post, giving it a familiar pat to say thanks. Maybe taking on nine drunk guys when you were also drunk was not such a good idea. Bad tactics. He said it out loud to himself, "Bad tactics." There was a faint crashing in the distance but no other answer.

Oh, his skull ached; he moved to lean his forehead against the cool metal of the lamppost and then jerked away when he realized he had just tapped his split eyebrow against the steel. That's right- he was injured. He looked up into the sky . . . and it was raining. Injured and exposed, what should he do?

He was trained for this stuff right? What should he do? He thought hard for a second.

Seek shelter.

Of course, shelter. But where? He couldn't go home- Joshua would be up and maybe Max would be there. His head gave a horrible throb at the thought of being yelled at and scolded and probably smacked. Nope, couldn't go home.

Where was he anyway?

He looked up at the street sign on the corner, hanging on by a thread. It was dented and the paint chipped where people had probably thrown things at it. Rattling in the rain, the sign looked like it could fall off its' post at any second. But it was holding on. Alec felt a moment of solidarity with the sign. Beaten and bruised and gettin' rained on but still clinging to life- that was them- Alec and the sign. He saluted it with one hand, "Way to go, Euclid and Sixth." He told it, "Good man . . . or good sign. Whatever."

Right, Euclid and Sixth. He knew where he was.

Now, where was he going?

Who lived around here? Maxie. Nope, already decided she was to be avoided at all costs. Who else? Logan. Nope, same thing. Who else- he knew there was someone else. . . Wy. And she owed him- he saved her life, right? She only lived a little farther out on the edge of the warehouse district and it wasn't too far, six blocks maybe. Thank God for his genetically superior sense of direction- he remembered exactly where it was.

Good, he had an objective- find Wy.

His memory wasn't actually at its best in the face of _a lot_ of alcohol compounded by head trauma so he did a little bit of wandering in the rain before he found her place. He was almost sober by the time he stood in front of her door or at least sober enough to wonder if this was such a good idea- but the truth was he was suddenly bone tired and the walk home did not appeal to him . . . at all . . . in any way.

So he knocked.

She took one look at him, finding the cuts, and the blood, and the wet clothes and nodded toward the interior of her squat. Alec was relieved when she didn't ask any questions. "C'mon." Was all she said.

Wy showed him unceremoniously to one of the mismatched and rickety chairs around the small kitchen table. Shrugging off his wet jacket and sitting down wearily, Alec surveyed her place. It wasn't much- a corner of a warehouse with a small kitchen against one wall. Wys' bed was a wide heavy mat on a platform just off the ground. A crate of books sat beside it. Other than the bed, the table and chairs were the only furniture.

There were no electrical appliances of any kind in the kitchen- no coffee maker, no microwave- the stove was gas. The only things that seemed to require electricity in the whole place were the light bulb over the kitchen table and a small radio that sat on the counter. He was sure there were lights stuck to the distant ceiling, but they weren't on and the empty area beyond her small living space dissolved into murky darkness. Through the black, he could see a basketball hoop on the far wall but no basketball and a makeshift punching bag in one corner.

"Nice place you've got here." He said sarcastically, reaching up to probe the cut on his eyebrow with a wince.

"At least I have a place of my own." She replied calmly, "Where I don't have to be afraid of running into Max and getting yelled at for starting fights."

"Hey, I didn't start that fight-"

"Yeah, I'm sure you just stumbled on it all unwittingly."

He tossed her a sour look, "What is it with transgenic babes that they all have to be so sarcastic? Men like a sweet disposition, you know."

She gave him a handful of ice wrapped in a towel for his jaw. "In my experience, men like one specie of DNA, too." She poured some water into a bowl from the teapot on the stove. The water steamed in the cool air of the kitchen; the vapor rising through the dingy light provided by one light bulb on an extension cord dangling above the table. Wy sat in the chair next to him and dipped a towel into the bowl. Reaching out, she tilted his face into the light to see the cut better. Her fingers were cold and when she leaned in, a drop of water from her hair landed near his mouth. Alec looked down and saw that her clothes were soaking wet, clinging to her skin.

"You're all wet." He observed fuzzily.

"You're drunk."

"Not as think as you drunk I am." He said deliberately.

She ignored the joke. "I got caught out in the storm. I just got in." Silence settled down on them like a heavy blanket. The water in the bowl smelled like herbs and stung on the open wound even though Wys' fingers were surprisingly gentle. Alec found himself in the strange position of trying not to stare at where her t-shirt molded to her body. She was so close and she held his chin so firmly that there weren't a lot of places to rest his gaze. Also, despite his incredible X-5 metabolism, he was still a little drunk and the room spun if he tried to look around too much. He contented himself with studying her face. Tonight her eyes were a deep, almost navy blue like the summer sky just before the stars come out. There were nine pale freckles decorating the bridge of her nose. He wondered if some engineer decided to put them there or if it was just chance. Had there been a lab tech once, standing in a cold white room who decided 'Nine- now there's a good number for freckles'? Her eyebrows were the same dark shinning brown as her hair and swept over her wide set eyes making her appear more innocent than she was. Her jaw gave her away though; square and stubborn and set immobile. He studied her while she looked past his expression to tend the cut. She was much prettier than he had first thought. She had the same dark and curling eyelashes as Max.

She leaned back suddenly, startling him a little, "I've got some bandages, just a sec." As Wy walked away he appreciated the view absently. She was small like Max but curvier. When she sat back down, she looked at him for a second, a puzzled frown creasing the skin between her brows. Her nose twitched. He wondered briefly what she could see when she looked at him- and even stranger, what she could smell. He raised his uninjured eyebrow but she ignored it, moving abruptly to spread ointment on the cut and tape the gauze down. She left the table again and he touched the bandage as though to reassure himself it was in place.

"You can crash here for the night, if you want- sober up before you go back to Joshua's."

He nodded, "Thanks."

She shrugged like it didn't matter but when she turned to the sink to empty the bowl he heard her say "You're welcome." After a minute she continued, "I have to get into some dry clothes."

"I'm not stopping ya."

She looked around the warehouse that she had made her place. Even the toilet and the bathtub were out in the open. Her bed was about twelve feet away from his chair. Then she looked back at him, pointedly.

He smiled.

"Don't-" Wy said sharply. Her hair was almost black from the water, making her face so pale it seemed to glow.

"Don't what?" He asked, bewildered.

She shook her head, "Just don't." She gestured sharply with her chin, "Now- turn around."

Normally he would rattle her chain a little more- see how far he could push her but she looked almost desperate for a second so he turned awkwardly in his chair. He heard her moving around behind him, heard the wet splat sound of her t-shirt hitting the floor. A few minutes later footsteps padded toward him and he turned back, assuming it was safe again.

Wy was rubbing at her hair with a towel, making it stand out in wild curls and spikes. She wore blue draw string pants like a doctor and a white tank top. Her feet were bare. She looked adorable and it occurred to Alec that maybe part of his problem was that he needed to get laid in a bad way.

"You hungry?" She asked.

A dangerous question.

"I could eat." He admitted.

"Judging by the way you smell, you need to. You should drink some water, too." Reaching into the small refrigerator tucked under the counter, she pulled out an old plastic jug and poured him a glass of water. He took it from her with one hand: his warm fingertips caressing her knuckles before curling around and over and between her fingers to grip the glass and pull it down to his lips. She turned away abruptly and began mysterious preparations at the counter. He watched her back intently for a moment.

"Don't offer to help." She said sarcastically, without turning around.

Alec sat the glass and then the ice on the table silently and slid up behind her, his chest almost but not quite pressing against her back, though he could still feel the warmth of her skin through his shirt. She was paused in front of the cutting board and he spoke into the curve of her neck, "What can I do for you?"

There was a moment of absolute silence.

Wy moved with startling speed and viciousness, knocking him backwards to land against the table. The knife in her hand was at his throat almost instantly. It's true that she was not as strong or as fast as he was but she was still well-trained and she has surprise and his own inebriation on her side. What would never have worked any other time worked for her now.

"Let's get something straight-" Her voice was as hard and absolute as a Manticore drill sergeant, "I'm not one of your bimbos, hanging around for your convenient fucking. Don't try to play me and I won't _gut_ you. Are we clear?"

He eyed the knife warily. "Crystal."

There was a moment of silence in which Alec hardly dared to breathe.

"Good." She pulled the blade away and straightened, "Now, what do you want in your omelet?"

They ate with minimum conversation, knives and forks scraping faintly against mismatched plates. They were both quick and efficient at the table, their precise manners another leftover from Manticore. Both pretended like what had happened just twenty minutes before didn't matter. Wy handed the ketchup to Alec calmly when he asked for it and Alec was careful not to touch her fingers as he took it. He was completely sober finally and actually a little embarrassed, a sensation he was not very familiar with.

When they finish their meal, Wy handed Alec a pillow and a blanket and nodded to the rug before falling into bed herself. In the morning, Alec was up and gone before she even stirred.

He left the blanket neatly folded with the pillow on the table accompanied by a brief note. It read, 'Max needs a favor- brief you later'.

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Alec was up so early, he actually had time before his shift at Jam Pony to run back home and grab a shower, so he made his way through the quiet city. When he came in the front door, he was not really surprised to find Joshua up and in front of his easel. The big guy kept weird hours, sometimes painting so far into the night it became morning before he even noticed. Alec paused briefly to lean against the doorjamb and watch as Joshua laid down a line of paint and then stepped back to study the work carefully. He glanced over and saw the other man standing patiently in the doorway.

"Hey, Alec." He said absently, eyeing the painting again.

"Hey."

Joshua paused a second as though something has just occurred to him. Then he turned back to stare at the bandage covering part of Alec's brow. He remarked with surprise, "Busy night."

Alec smiled a little, "Yeah, you know how it is- you set out to have a little fun and the next thing you know you're kicking the crap out of a dozen longshoremen." It occurred to Alec that this didn't sound exactly right but Joshua didn't notice.

The big man simply accepted it with a nod, "Doughnuts in kitchen." He said.

"Yeah? Cool." Alec turned toward the kitchen and then paused. Joshua smelled things, right? "Hey Joshua, how do I- _smell_ to you?"

Joshua paused in his painting to turn slowly toward Alec. "Smell okay." He said carefully.

"So I don't smell like weird or anything?"

Joshua studied him for a moment, with a focus that was strange from someone who was usually so vague. He smiled his instant smile. "You meet foxy boo? You want to get busy?"

"No!" Alec said hastily, "No, I was just . . . curious. That's all."

The big man's expression turned dubious, "Smell like you want to get busy."

"I do not want to get busy!" He paused. That was not exactly true. "Or that's not why I asked- Look, it's a simple question- Do I smell strange or unusual or unpleasant to you in any way?"

The big man considered for a moment, "No."

"Okay."

The two men studied each other uncomfortably. Alec broke the silence, "Right. Thanks." and headed into the kitchen for a doughnut.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chap. 7-**

Wy was standing in the corner talking intently with Sketchy. The much taller man curved toward her like a tree to the sun, nodding seriously as she spoke to him. The sight of the two of them in intimate conversation while business as usual turned around them made Alec vaguely uneasy for some reason. He had hoped to catch her alone and get their little errand over quickly.

The truth was, he had been avoiding her all day, not in the mood to face any lingering resentment she might be harboring after his little moment of . . . insanity last night. Not that it was a big deal, he told himself. He was drunk, he made a little drunken mistake in his drunkenness and that was the end of it. No big deal, he repeated to himself.

Acting like there was nothing in the world more interesting to him than the contents of his clipboard, Alec wandered over to eavesdrop.

"The thing is," Sketchy was telling Wy, "is that I've always had these _problems_ with women. Like the same things just keeping happening over and over."

Wy nodded, "Then there must be a reason why the same things keep happening over and over. A pattern isn't just a pattern- it's evidence of an underlying cause."

"That is _so_ wise," Sketchy said in his awed stoner voice.

Alec glanced up casually, just in time to catch Wys' casual shrug. "The thing you have to do now," she explained to the young man, "is to understand the cause. Then you can start to change things- if you decide that's what you want."

"No, no. That's what I want," Sketchy said hastily, "I want to make a real connection with a woman, ya know? I want love and . . . and romance not just sex."

Wy nodded again but Alec could see where one of her eyebrows had risen just a little. "Think about what I've said, okay? Try to figure out the motivation behind your actions."

"Okay," Sketchy agreed, reaching out to touch her hand where it peeked out from the sleeve of her jacket, "Thank-you. _Really._ I feel like I might actually understand the things I do now."

She removed her hand out from under his, "You're welcome. Now, I gotta go. I've got a run downtown." She started to walk away, giving Alec a brief, completely normal nod on her way toward her locker. Apparently, she had forgiven him for last night, "I'll talk to you later," She said softly as she passed him and he nodded.

"Are you coming to Crash later?" Sketchy called after her suddenly but she just waved vaguely over her shoulder. He watched her until she disappeared out the door with her bike and then turned, his eyes falling on the other young man and his fascinating clipboard, "Alec!"

Looking up as though he hadn't been standing there listening the whole time, Alec answered, "Oh, hey Sketchy. What's up?"

"You and Wy are like, old friends right?" He asked eagerly.

Alec raised one eyebrow, "Something like that." He conceded dryly.

Sketchy paused a second, frowning, "Wait- you don't mean- you and her-"

Last night's little moment of madness notwithstanding, Alecs' first instinct was to answer, 'Hell, no!' but a seconds thought gave him a better idea. Glancing around like he was checking for listening ears, Alec leaned in. Sketchy imitated him with an almost comic attitude of conspiracy like Jam Pony was suddenly the set of a bad spy movie, "Lets' just say," Alec told him in a low voice, "that I know what I'm talking about when I tell you, she's not what you think she is. Know what I mean?" He asked, giving the other young man a deliberate look.

Sketchy swallowed, his eyes widening and nodded hastily. "Yeah- yeah, I think I do."

With a brisk nod, Alec straightened abruptly, causing Sketchy to jump. He gave the taller man an easy smile and clapped him on the shoulder, "I'm glad we had this opportunity to chat then."

Sketchy winced a little under the force of the blow but nodded, "Thanks man." He said earnestly.

"No problem."

Appearing out of thin air in the way of managers everywhere, Normal was beside them suddenly, "Do you actually intend to do any work today or are you just going to stand there taking up space and continuing to be a useless unproductive member of society?" Normal snapped, slapping a package against Sketchys' chest. "Hi, Alec." He added absently.

"Normal." Alec replied with a polite nod and smile, edging his way toward the door as Sketchy started to argue.

Wy was waiting for him two blocks away, like some kind of freaky mind-reader, leaning with her bike against a wall.

"So," Wy asked him without preamble, "What does Max want?"

"What, no 'hello, how ya doing'?" He asked, looking down at her.

"How about we skip the witty banter and you just answer my question." She said wearily.

He frowned at her, "What are you so cranky for?" He asked, before realizing he might not actually want to hear the answer.

"I just spent half an hour listening to Sketchy talk about his love life- you'd be cranky too."

That make him smile, "He's trying to get in your pants, you know."

"Of course I know. I can smell that a mile off." She gave him a pointed look.

Ah, so it was like that, Alec realized- forgiven but not forgotten.

"I kind of feel sorry for him." She admitted, "He's so . . . inept."

"Well," He told her with a smug, evil smile, "You should be thanking me. I took care of it for you."

"What did you tell him?"

"Nothing much- I may have implied that you're a psycho or a transvestite . . . I'm not sure which."

"Nice," She answered tightly and then her expression turned wry, "At least he doesn't think I'm a genetically engineered killing machine."

"Nah, you're too short to be a genetically engineered killing machine."

Her eyes narrowed but she ignored the jibe, asking instead, "So, are you actually going to explain to me what we're supposed to do?"

Yeah, he probably should, though the truth was he wasn't looking forward to it. He started to walk, trusting her to follow, "Logan- bless his little hacker heart-" Alec explained, "came into some info that maybe one of our fellow Manticore alumnus has been tipping White off to the locations of freaks all over-"

"Like Kai? Did someone set Kai up?" She demanded sharply, stopping in the street.

Alec paused too, stepping toward her. His instinct was to touch her, to grip her shoulder or her arm but he kept his arms crossed tightly against his chest, "We don't know that," he was looking at her head-on, gazing past the hair sliding into her eyes, "I'm the C.O. on this op, if you can't take orders and keep your head in the game, I'll call Max right now and tell her _all_ about the other night at the plant." He watched carefully to make sure she knew the threat was for real, "Besides," He added mockingly, "you're not in this for revenge, remember? So what's it going to be?"

It was amazing how someone so small could look so fierce but despite her glare she nodded once, in agreement. "What are your orders, sir?" She asked sarcastically.

"Oh, I'll let you know . . . just be ready to obey me at any moment."

"Oh, absolutely." She agreed caustically. "Where are we going?"

"Logan got a couple possible locations for this guy. Max is watching one- we've got the other. Have you heard of a club called 'The Black Flag'?"

"No."

He looked at her sideways, "Of course you haven't. It's on the North east side of the warehouse district- pretty underground."

"Underground?" she asked.

"You know, underground- freaky people in freaky clothes, gettin' freaky." He made vague shapes in the air with his hands. Glancing at Wy, he realized that with the right clothes she would fit in at the Black Flag just fine- with her watching eyes and dark hair. "All we know about the target is male, probably X4 or 5. I don't know how we're supposed to find him in a place like the Flag. Check necks on the pretext of giving noogies?"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The club was filled with vinyl clothing, extreme hairdos, piercings and elaborate tattoos. The dominate color scheme was black on black- a freaks paradise- or a paradise for a certain kind of freak anyway. Fortunately for the two of them, there are just enough normal people wandering around that no one picked them out.

"I should have worn my eyeliner." Alec observed as a young man in a mesh shirt and shaved head passed by with a girl on each arm.

"You're not wearing any?" Wy asked absently as she glanced around the club and Alec shot her a dirty look she completely missed. She was studying the catwalks above the dance floor. She nodded toward the stairs, "Let's get some height . . . if I can make a respectful suggest, _sir_." She added.

"Sure." Alec agreed with a casual shrug. "Height's not really a problem for me- but I can see where you'd have trouble."

She was just putting her hand on the railing when she heard him but she didn't turn, "There's a reason for that," she said coldly to the stairs in front of her.

"Design flaw?" He asked in a knowing voice.

"It's part of the camouflage-" she told him, climbing the stairs like they were the bodies of her enemies, each foot falling with sharp precision, "the best spies are people who are easily overlooked. Short people," She observed grimly, "are practically invisible sometimes."

"I'm sorry . . . did you say something?" He asked mildly and snagged two drinks from a passing waitress. He handed one to Wy as she paused to survey the mass of people below them. Studying the drink in the pulsing lights, Alec gave it a dubious look. It was a strange glowing sort of purple, but he shrugged and downed it anyway. Might as well have some fun during this colossal waste of time.

Wy looked over at him and seemed to notice the drink in her hand for the first time, "What is this?"

"It tastes kind of like grape."

Wy held it up to her nose and sniffed delicately. She made a face when the smell hit her and she handed the drink back to him. "There are no," she told him emphatically, "grapes in that glass."

"Last time I buy you a drink," he said, tossing back the contents of her glass as well.

"You stole that drink."

"Steal, buy- what's the difference?"

"An exchange of money." She observed dryly. Alec stopped just behind her shoulder to glance casually over the rail like she was doing and she stepped away sharply. He frowned at her.

"What is your problem? You've been jumpy ever since we got in line. Haven't you ever done this before?"

It was obvious she didn't want to answer but he gave her a warning look. "It's the crowd," she explained tightly, "there's so much going on- it's a little overwhelming."

"Try not to think about it." He suggested, "Just enjoy the ambience." His voice was dry and he gave the obnoxious pulsing house lights a deprecating glance. She followed his gaze and smiled a little before turning back to the railing once more. It was the first genuine smile she had ever given him.

He could feel an answering grin trying to work its way free on his own face. The song changed and with it the lights. They played over Wys' back as she stared back down at the confusion of bodies undulating on the dance floor. The lights slipped over the two pale dimples that could be seen just above the waist band of her jeans. Catching some guy's speculative eye, Alec realized that he and Wy stood out a little more than they should.

Reaching out, he moved to tap her on the shoulder but she turned before he could touch her. "C'mon." Stepping back, he nodded toward the stairs and then reached out to take her wrist. The leather cuff she always wore shifted under his grip. He thought he felt something under his fingertips- a place where the smooth skin was no longer perfect but she rotated the arm in his grip so that his fingers rested against her wrist bone instead.

"Where are we going?"

"The dance floor." He said, tugging her down the stairs.

"What are we going to do there?"

"Dance." She stopped dead in her tracks. Alec turned with a smile and put one hand on her waist, coaxing and acting for all the world like she was just being coy and flirtatious. "Blend in." He reminded her.

"I can't dance."

Conscious of the eyes on them, he reached up and toyed with the collar of her jacket; his finger's grazing the skin of her neck. "Everyone can dance."

"Not me."

"Look, nobody's expecting you to foxtrot."

She didn't respond, just stared over his shoulder and ignored him.

"Look we can dance or we can make out. Dancing seems like the less painful option for both of us-"

Wy interrupted him suddenly, "There." She nodded toward the crowd on the dance floor over his shoulder, "With the purple hair."

Alec slid around to lean against the railing, his eyes falling on a young man with shaggy violet hair. When he turned with the music, Alec could just catch sight of the barcode on the back of his neck.

"Score."

"Now what?"

Alec smiled. "Just let me make a quick phone call . . . "


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** Thanks to everyone who has stuck with this story so far! You guys are awesome. . . and remarkably patient.

**Chap. 9-**

"Hey!" Wys' outraged voice was loud enough to cut through the pounding house music and several people on the dance floor swiveled around to watch her.

The young man with the purple hair glanced up innocently as well, to find Wy glaring at him, "What the hell?!" She demanded, shoving at him roughly with one hand and his look turned to surprise.

The fingers of Wys' other hand were twinned with Alecs' and he paused when she did, turning back toward her. "What's wrong, baby?" He asked and then glanced at purple hair, his eyes narrowing, "Did he- did he touch you?" Alec dropped her hand, to give the other man's shoulder a shove as well. "You touching my woman?" He demanded, secretly amused by the knowledge that Wy was probably screaming inside to hear herself referred to as his 'woman'.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Purple hair answered with a sneer, shrugging Alec's hand off.

Gripping Alec's sleeve earnestly, Wy pointed at the other young man, "He grabbed my ass!" All the dancing within a fifteen foot radius had stopped. The incident was attracting the interest of partiers on the catwalks above them as well as the clubs' rough bouncers.

"I never touched this crazy bitch!"

"What'd you call her?" Alec shoved him again- harder this time, "First you cop a feel now you're casting disparagements?" He demanded dramatically and added another shove. Purple hair was obviously loosing patience. Out of the corner of his eye, Alec could see two very large, very dirty guys converging on them- story of his life. It was probably time to get this thing started before he ended up on the street all alone, "What's the matter, grape-licious?" Alec mocked, "You only like to put your hands on defenseless little girls?"

That did it. Purple hair took a swing and with an internal sigh, Alec let it connect. The other man must have been holding back, though. Alec wasn't even bleeding but he reacted to the punch like it was worse than it was, to give the bouncers time to grab them both. Some balding guy with mediocre personal hygiene hauled Alec backwards and began to drag him through the club toward the side door. The bouncer didn't say much but there really wasn't an opportunity as, continuing to abuse the other man as well as the bouncers, Alec put up the semblance of a struggle and Wy followed behind frantically trying to explain that he was just defending her honor. Purple hair was trying a similar tack, trying to explain that Alec had started it all, as the other guard pulled him along. Alec broke free just long enough to slap ineffectually at the other transgenic; who in frustration and fury lunged at him. A third bouncer joined the first two and the brief explosion was quickly subdued. When they reached the fire exit, the heavy door was shoved open and both men were thrown out bodily into the garbage strewn alley. Wy slipped out behind them.

"-and stay out!" said the bouncer who had corralled Alec. And he spat into the alley before yanking the door shut behind him.

"Never really liked this club anyway," Alec observed as he got to his feet, brushing ineffectually at some unpleasant substance on the edge of his jacket.

Behind him, purple hair was getting slowly to his feet.

Looking up from what was probably now a stain, Alec said sourly to Wy, "You know, I'm starting to see a pattern whenever I hang out with you."

"Ah-" She nodded her head toward the alley at his back but Alec didn't turn fast enough to avoid being tackled by the other man. The girl winced as the two men crashed into the cement. "Me too." She agreed when Alec ended up on the bottom of the pile.

Purple hair had Alec pinned underneath him, one hand wrapped in the collar of Alec's jacket as he hauled him upward. Pulling back with one fist, he told Alec coldly, "Boy, you've got no idea the trouble you're in."

Grabbing onto purple hairs' shirt with both fists Alec pulled him forward in turn, so that they were face to face. "I think that's my line." And he slammed his forehead into the other mans. Purple hair swayed back and Alec took advantage of his weakness to throw him off.

They wrestled around a little more but eventually Alec dragged the other transgenic to his feet. Purple hair made one last ditch attempt to slip from his grasp and Alec laughed, "Whoa there, buddy," and slammed him against the wall casually, "In case you haven't noticed, this is not your average bar brawl." He drew a breath, "So tell me- how many transgenics have you sold to White?"

With his face pressed tightly against the brick, the other man was not in a comfortable position to respond but he glared fiercely at Alec with one eye, "You don't scare me," He said with a passable sneer.

"Not scared, uh?" Wy replied, leaning in so her face was only a few inches from his own. He followed her motion with his eyes, though he couldn't move his head, trapped as he was in Alec's grip, "You smell kind of nervous to me."

"Of course he's scared," Alec observed casually over her shoulder, as though he wasn't holding anybody pressed against a wall, "The chickens- or in this case the genetically engineered killing machines have come home to roost." Gripping the other man by the back of the neck, he pulled him away from the brickwork and then re-introduced the two of them more forcefully this time.

Wy winced theatrically, "Oh, ouch. That hurt, huh? How do you contact Agent White?" She asked, as though it were an afterthought.

Purple hair spat some blood out at her and she took a careful step back to avoid getting it on her shoes.

"That," Alec observed mildly, "was not nice."

Purple hair laughed weakly as Alec slammed him against the wall yet again, this time pulling him around so that his back was against the wall instead of his face.

"Oh, you think this is funny?" Alec asked, yanking him forward sharply and Wy reached out to touch his arm.

Stepping forward, she peered intently into the other transgenics' face, "You aren't afraid of us, are you?" She asked quietly, still holding his eyes. She studied him for a moment before observing, "You don't think we'd kill you- not a fellow transgenic." Then she smiled at him a little, like they were friends sharing a confidence, "Maybe you're right. Blood's thicker than water, right? And we share something in the blood- I can smell it." She sighed, "No, we can slap you around some but we can't kill you." She admitted, leaning back away from him.

Purple hair wasn't falling for the good cop routine though. He continued to watch her with suspicious, angry eyes.

"I'll tell you what we can do, though-" Wy continued in the same calm even tone, "we can take you down to the docks and we can show everyone your barcode and we can call you a freak. And then we can see what the mob would do with you- how would you like that?" she watched him carefully and Alec felt something uncomfortable stir inside him, "And the best part is White would sweep down and cover the whole thing up for us- just like that." She snapped her fingers and the man's eyes widened a little at the sound. He glared at her, his breath coming quickly in and out. Leaning in again, she took a deep breath and frowned at him. She moved back suddenly and glanced at Alec for the first time in a while, "Something's wrong." She observed tightly.

"What?"

Wy looked around a little frantically, "They're coming- it's a trap- _shit_!" Grabbing his sleeve, she tugged roughly, indicating that he should follow her down the alley.

"What about him?" He protested, gesturing at purple hair, still held tightly in his grasp.

Glancing hastily at the third transgenic she shrugged, "No time," She hadn't even finished the speaking and Alec was already turning, his fist striking the other man hard enough to propel him backwards into several garbage cans. His head lolled and came to rest on what looked like an old pizza. Clearly he wasn't going to get up again for a while.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chap. 10-**

Alec and Wy made their way down the alley as quickly as they could, pausing at the end to check for trouble.

Stepping out of the protective cover of the alleyway, they both caught sight of the sniper on the roof but it was Wy who moved first, turning to step in front of Alec so fast she hardly seemed to occupy the space between where she had been and where she was. The move left them staring into each others' faces and Alec saw her eyes widen as something struck her in the back.

He felt like he was underwater. He saw her mouth fall open but he couldn't hear the sound that came out of it and his arms felt too heavy to reach toward her. She stumbled, slowly, slowly, drifting downward like a coin through the water.

Waking suddenly, he grabbed her by the arm, keeping her on her feet. The bullets fell around them with the hard tinny sound of rain as Alec dragged Wy across the street and out of the line of fire.

They scrambled along together, deeper into the warren of abandoned buildings in what used to be the fish- packing district. Wy was struggling to keep up with him, her movements becoming increasingly clumsy, her steps fast and out of control like falling dominoes.

They stopped as soon as Alec thought they could afford to, blocks away from the club, pausing in the shadow of a large dumpster. Wy hardly had both of her feet on the ground before he yanked her around roughly.

"Where are you hit?" He demanded, running his hand frantically over her back as he searched for blood. There was a moment of confusion when he found none.

She opened her hand, revealing several sharp-tipped projectiles, "Darts." She explained tersely.

Before he could react to that she was nodding, "C'mon." insisting that they keep moving.

Alec peered at her- even with his superior sight her face was murky and hard to read in the extreme dark of the alleyway. He couldn't tell if she was okay but he knew that she was right. They had to keep moving.

Alec stepped out into the alley, turning to the right, when Wy fumbled to grab his hand.

He looked back at her almost shocked by the touch but she shook her head, "Not that way. Left."

"Left takes us deeper into Sector Five." He argued briefly. She was still clinging to his hand like it could keep her upright.

"They're waiting in the other direction. –and they're coming up behind us. Left." She insisted.

"Fine."

They managed to make it another six or seven blocks when her foot seemed to slip out from under her and she stumbled heavily.

"Are you okay?" Alec demanded, flattening himself against a wall and pushing her back against it as well. There was more light here- enough so that he could see her waver again.

"Yeah, I'm-" Then her face went pale and she put one hand out uncertainly, "Oh, _crap_-" she said before slumping sideways.

He grabbed her around the waist before she could fall completely and ground his teeth in frustration and fury. What did she have to jump _in front_ of the freakin_'_ darts for anyway? Shaking her sharply, he demanded, "Wy! _Hey_-"

Using him and the wall, she dragged herself upward, wavering on her feet. Alec kept his arm around her waist and towed her along a few more streets before pausing again.

It wasn't that she was heavy- she wasn't. He wondered briefly if she was eating enough and then shook the thought away impatiently.

Alec could carry her easily but without her . . . particular abilities it would be easy for him to wander into a trap in this tangle of streets. He needed her conscious and he figured keeping her walking was the best way to accomplish that. She moved like a zombie as he frog marched her through the dark streets, but at least she was moving.

They made it nearly another mile before she collapsed again. Once more he shook her and demanded in a low voice, "_Wy_!" But whatever was in the dart was dragging at her like wet sand. "Wy- _damn it_- wake up, you worthless-"

She seemed to stir a little, the sharper his voice got. It gave him an idea.

"On your feet, soldier!" He hissed at her, his face so close his nose almost brushed her cheek, "At attention!"

Somehow she managed to stand a little straighter.

"_Report_- current layout of enemy troops."

Wy took a deep breath, lids falling closed over murky intoxicated eyes. For a second, Alec was afraid she had passed out while she was still on her feet.

The girl opened her eyes as she raised one arm to point unsteadily, "100 yards, south by southeast- sizeable movement- six or more troops. Due south- possible activity. Out of confirmation range."

They were being pushed toward the harbor. "Possible escape routes?" He demanded, in his best imitation of the drill sergeant who- his lips twisted sarcastically at the thought- practically raised him.

She didn't answer right away.

"_Report!"_

"Proceed north by northwest approximately 2.5 miles."

Every time she wavered, he would snap another furious order and in this manner, they made their stop-start way thru the twisted dark.

Nearly half an hour into their strange ordeal, Wy tripped heavily over a stack of crates, landing face first on the street. Alec was so used to snapping directions at her by this point, he didn't immediately move to help her up, "V2-183," He barked, "On your feet!" His voice sounded ugly even to himself.

She stirred weakly, managing to pull herself up onto her hands, her head hanging weary and heavy. He could see her shoulder blades straining and sharp even under her jacket. There would be three holes in the leather where the darts had penetrated, Alec realized absently.

Then he moved to help her, sliding his fingers under her arm and lifting her with unexpected gentleness. She murmured something too low for him to hear.

"What?"

Raising her face, she stared up at him, unguarded for once and pale. Alec felt . . . strange and invisible like she wasn't actually looking at him but someone else- someone out of the past maybe. Gripping the sleeve of his jacket, she said in a tone horribly like begging, "Please, not the mess hall. Not the-"

"What?" He demanded again, grabbing her other arm and holding her square in front of him so he could look into her face. "Wy-" He shook her, so that her head waved back and forth like a tree in the wind. "Stop it."

"Not the mess hall." she repeated desperately, clutching at him in return with iron fingers, "I'll do better." She promised. Then in a horrible, shaking parody of the formal voice they had been taught to use when reporting to a superior officer, she said, "Subject exhibits signs of-"

Her words made absolutely no sense to Alec but the way she was looking at him was horrifying. He had seen his share of wide-eyed terror in the brief seconds before he had ended a life, more times than he allowed himself to think about. But this was worse.

His nightmares sat in the back of his head and watched her- drowning in fear- with knowing eyes.

"Stop it!"

She continued in the same frantic voice.

Alec could feel his own hands shaking on her arms.

"That's _enough_!" Reaching back, Alec brought his hand around sharply, in an urgent open-palmed slap that put her on the ground again.

He heard his breath shuddering in and out of his mouth, felt his chest heaving with it. Looking down at her little rumpled form on the street in front of him, lying there like something discarded; he felt a sour, turning moment of shame.

And then he remembered where he was. His jaw set grimly- no time for shame or remorse. He bent over and scooped her up quickly, glancing around for somewhere. . . _there_. Across the road there was what looked like an abandoned processing plant, opening out onto the bay. If they had to they could hide in the water, maybe swim away. It would have to do.

He carried her across the road, moving swiftly toward the single dark door he could see. When he tried the doorknob, he felt it catch- locked. But for him, not a problem. Leaning back, he kicked it open with a sharp, business-like motion and entered.

Inside, Alec pushed the door shut behind him with his foot and glanced around. The interior of the plant was dark, the high windows painted over with dust and grime. It was pleasantly warm though, to be out of the perpetual Seattle drizzle. Alec moved quietly around the edges of the large space, trying to avoid leaving footprints in the dust. Apparently the smell had kept even the hardened squatters away.

In his arms, Wy stirred a little and her eyelids fluttered.

Not completely unconscious then, he noted. Not that it mattered at this point.

He found an old walk-in freezer with its' heavy door still in place. The walls were nice and thick which might help if Whites' men tried to use heat seeing equipment. It was the best he could do under the circumstances.

Wy woke suddenly, trying to sit up in his arms so that he almost dropped her. She slipped downward, feet hitting the floor but not holding her. Alec grabbed her by the arm to help keep her upright, his startled grip tight enough to bruise. Opening the freezer door, he pushed her inside and she didn't bother fighting him. She was already sitting on the floor, her back against the wall when he slipped inside after her. He lowered himself to the floor as well, just a few feet across the narrow space from her.

Wy was resting her forehead against her tented knees, arms circling her legs and her fingers wrapped tight around her feet.

Tilting his head back wearily, it occurred to Alec that it had been an all around shitty night.

They sat in silence for quite awhile.

Eventually, he heard Wy stirring and when he looked across at her she was studying the darts thoughtfully.

"What is it?" He asked.

"Some kind of fast acting sedative, designed to incapacitate the target instead of killing." Her voice was stronger now but still sloppy, slurring the word 'incapacitate' and making Alec smirk a little.

"Not very effective." He observed dryly, "It took almost half an hour to knock you out."

"I'd guess it was designed for X5 metabolism. You guys burn so hot, it would have put you out a lot faster."

"I am hot." He conceded.

She rolled her eyes expressively and they lapsed into silence again. He could hear her breathing deliberately in and out as she waited for the weakness to pass.

"How did you know they were just darts?" He asked, his curiosity finally getting the better of him.

"I didn't."

Alec went completely still. "You _threw_ yourself in front of a possible bullet? You couldn't just shove me out of the way? What's your _damage_?" The shame was back suddenly and pounding at his insides with unexpectedly strong fists. He stubbornly ignored it.

"I guess I'm just saintly."

"You're crazy." He shook his head, "Abso-freaking-nuts." The look he gave her was appalled- offended even, as though she had betrayed a basic principle of courtesy and didn't even have the decency to be embarrassed.

She shrugged, "I guess we're even now."

Were they? He wasn't sure anymore. He was loosing track of who owed who what and for when. It _felt_ like he owed her something, like they were connected somehow. And the obligation lurked on the edge of his consciousness, itching and antagonizing him. It was so freaking _irritating_.

And suddenly he couldn't stand to sit there in that little space just in arms reach of her any longer.

"How does it smell to you?" He demanded abruptly.

She raised one eyebrow, "Pardon me?"

"You know, that voodoo that you do _so well_-" he waved one hand sarcastically, "is there anyone skulking around outside?"

"We're sitting in what used to be a processing plant for cod."

"So?"

"So, I have a super-nose. I can't smell anything but fish."

He gave her a look that clearly indicated he felt she was worthless at this point.

"I can't hear anyone though or sense anything bigger than some rats and maybe a opossum." She snapped defensively. "It's probably safe to move."

"Probably?" He asked incredulously, "What's the range on your little electro- sensory thingy, anyway?"

She gave him a resentful glance but he waited and she said finally, in a sulky little voice,

"A hundred yards, give or ta-"

His snort interrupted her.

"It works best in the water." She muttered.

"I guess next time we'll have to find a pool to hide in."

"Maybe next time-" she started sharply but shut her mouth all of a sudden, turning her face away to glare at the door.

"Maybe next time, you'll what?" He snapped back, "Spare me the-" In the pocket of his jacket, his cell began to vibrate. Yanking it out, Alec glared down at the too familiar number.

Max.

To answer or not to answer. The eternal question.

Peering up from the phone, he could see Wy through his eyelashes, still glaring at the door. Her face turned away from him again.

Striking the send button with more force than necessary he demanded into the phone "Yeah?"

He could just about picture the raised-eyebrow, expression of offense on Maxs' face. "What's got your panties in a knot?" She asked.

"Oh, I don't know," He answered caustically, "maybe it's the fact that I've been playing hide-and-go-seek all night with heavily armed men."

"Well, they're gone now."

Alec paused, "How do you know?"

"I watched them. They gave up the search about an hour ago."

"Did you get the package?"

"Something . . . better." Anyone else would sound smug. She just sounded calm, business like even. "You and Wy alright?" She asked after a moment. Alec looked over at Wy again.

Who could tell?

"Yeah."

"Good," The quick common place tone was back, "I've got Logan with me. Meet us at-" She rattled off an address that wasn't too far from their current position.

"Fine."

The line went dead before he could even finish his giving his assent. Alec got wearily to his feet.

"Can you walk?" He asked the girl on the floor.

She looked surprised, "Of course." And she was on her feet a second later, a little slower than she usually might have moved.

"According to Max it's safe. Can't sit around in this freezer all night." He added sarcastically to no one in particular.

It was about a twenty minute walk to the address Max had given them. It seemed longer.

Max met them at the door, "Well, look who decided to show up. About time." She added over her shoulder as she left the doorway to move inside. Wy ducked through after her without answering, as she had not answered anything Alec had said to her in the last twenty minutes.

Alec surveyed the empty street behind him before entering himself. "Well . . . that was fun." He told the quiet air grimly.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: I love you guys. I mean really. I can't believe anyone is still reading this thing but you just don't give up! Thank-you!

**Chap. 11 -**

Max walked them across the interior of the building, which from the look of it was some kind of abandoned manufacturing plant. Rising through the dirt of disuse were the neglected skeletons of old machines, their purposes long forgotten. They loomed over the three transgenics with reaching arms and unexpected teeth like the fossilized remains of dinosaurs.

They climbed a set of metal grating stairs to a large landing where Logan was waiting for them. He was seated at a rickety table amidst the grime, looking as cool and collected as if he were sitting behind his immaculate desk in his immaculate penthouse. Resting on the table just inches away from his right hand was a large handgun.

Logan and Wy exchanged a nod as she approached him, following close behind Max.

When Logan met Alecs' eyes he nodded again and Alec nodded back. "Logan." He said in a deep, serious voice.

Max shot him a dirty look from across the table.

"Alec." Logan answered dryly, recognizing the mockery.

"What have you got?" Wy asked, interrupting the little scene impatiently.

The other three looked almost surprised, remembering that she was there. "We got to the club as Whites' men where closing on you. Sloppy." Max added to Alec.

He gave her a bored half-hearted glare.

"We couldn't get to the purple-haired guy but we picked up someone else." Max added and walking across the floor, she flipped a switch on the wall and the light in what was probably once the foremans' office came on.

Inside, blinking against the sudden light was a man who looked vaguely familiar to Alec.

"One of White's?" Alec asked.

"Yep." Max answered grimly.

"Can he see us?"

"One way glass. Soundproof." Logan offered from behind them.

Alec approached the glass. "Of course." Getting a little closer, he realized where he knew the mans' face from- sitting in that room was one of the agents who had held him captive while White stuck an explosive to his brain stem.

Alec gave him the finger through the glass.

"Real mature." Max observed.

Alec shrugged.

Turning, she and Logan exchanged one of their glances, saying-oh-so-much without words.

"You ready for this?" Logan asked her.

"No sweat."

Max unlocked the door and entered the little room. Alec leaned against the wall just beside the window to watch. This should be entertaining, he thought to himself.

Logan and Wy also moved forward to watch.

Max perched on the edge of the table, sitting a little too close to the man to be anything but threatening. "Rough night, huh?" She asked.

He didn't respond, just glared down at the table in front of him.

Max leaned over until she was just inches away from him and her voice went as hard and flat as her now black eyes, "It's about to get a whole lot rougher."

Raising his head finally, the man looked Max straight in the face. He held her eyes for a long moment and then with great deliberation he raised his right hand between them, gripped his index finger firmly and snapped the bone. It made a sharp ugly sound that was clear even through the glass.

"You don't scare me."

Disgust washed over Maxs' face but she didn't recoil. "We'll see about that." She answered.

"He's breeding cult." She said grimly as the door shut behind her.

"How can you be sure?" Logan asked.

"When have you ever seen someone deliberately break their own finger? _Apparently_, they don't feel pain the way normal people do. How the hell am I supposed to interrogate this guy?" She demanded- her voice tense and frustrated.

Neither Alec nor Logan had an answer for that.

"And they'll be coming for him." She added; her jaw tight.

From a few feet away, Wy studied the other girl, then she glanced at the door to look back at Max. Her expression was almost . . . sad for a second but it slipped away quickly, "Give me ten minutes with him."

"Ten minutes?" Max asked skeptically.

"Trained in interrogation, remember?"

She shrugged. "Who wasn't?"

Wy smiled a little with the corner of her mouth, "As much as I admire your technique Max, I know a few tricks that amount to a little more than offering to pound someone's bitch head in."

"You gonna dazzle him with your rapier wit?" Max asked sourly.

The other girl raised an eyebrow, "Wait and see."

When she moved toward the door, Alec spoke up, "If he's breeding cult, he should be restrained- preferably with chains."

Max nodded her agreement but Wy only smiled again, a strange little expression that combined sorrow and self-mockery in equal measures. "That won't be necessary." She told them, opening the door and entering the tank before anyone could protest further.

The others watched through the glass. Alec had his arms crossed tightly against his chest and he gripped his elbows hard enough to numb the tips of his fingers.

On the opposite side of the table from the man, Wy pulled the one empty chair around roughly. Sitting down with sudden grace she leaned back casually, making herself comfortable. Across from her the cultist folded his arms against his chest and gave her a contemptuous look.

"So is this good cop/bad cop? Are you going to be sympathetic and offer to help me out of this?" He laughed sharply.

Wy stared up at the ceiling for a moment like she was bored already and then looked back at him. "Nope."

Her casual attitude seemed to irritate him and he opened up with a string of profanity so obscene and inventive, all three watchers winced. Alec wore an expression of distaste, "Do you think he kisses his carefully selected breeding cult approved mother with that mouth?" He asked.

Meanwhile in the tank, Wy didn't react at all except to watch the man like he was a mildly interesting TV commercial or a fish in a tank. Every once and a while she would look up at the ceiling or around at the walls. Toward the end of his tirade, which lasted several minutes the cultist started to follow her glances into the corners of the room as though she was beginning to make him nervous.

"What is she doing?" Max asked, perplexed. No one answered.

When the man finally wound down, Wy leaned forward onto one elbow to rest her chin in her cupped hand as though to study him closer. Her gaze was not threatening but his eyes darted over her shoulder and he shivered.

"What do you want?" He demanded, suddenly.

Wy shrugged and continued to watch him.

"I'm not afraid." He insisted.

"Of course not."

"What do you want?" His voice took on a shrill note.

Moving with a swiftness that made the man start, Wy stood. With a quick neat gesture she set the light above the table swinging from side to side. Her face fell into shadow and then back into light, into shadow and back into light with its motion.

"_What do you want?"_ He screamed.

"You know what we want. Tell us White's plan."

He shook his head fiercely from side to side. "For my father before me and my sons after me. . ."

"What is White's plan?"

"I won't tell you. I won't tell you! For my father-" His eyes were bulging and he looked around wildly. His body shook as violently as his voice. Wy stood with the palms of her hands resting on the table.

"What is White's plan?" Her voice became soft and insistent.

He drew his feet up onto his chair and wrapped his arms around his legs, oblivious to his broken finger. He shook his head frantically. "No." His eyes moved constantly, scanning the shadows at Wy's back.

"Tell me White's plan."

"No."

"There is no other way out of this room."

"No." He was hiding his head in his arms, refusing to look.

"Look at me!" Wy's voice lashed out with sudden authority and he looked up. His face was pale and there was moisture on his skin that shined briefly in the swinging light. "_What is White's plan?"_

With a cry of absolute despair, he broke down and sobs shaking his body, he poured out the truth-

The phone call Logan intercepted was a hoax. Releasing someone had tipped off the good witch, White recognized that he had an information leak- a leak that quite possibly had some relation to Max and he had designed a ruse to draw the transgenic girl out. Which explained why the sniper had used darts and not bullets- the point was to capture Max not to kill her. Purple hair was just a recent capture who had been funneling White transgenics in exchange for his own life.

White had diverted a lot of money and man power into the plan and his superiors would not be pleased at his failure.

Wy pressed him for more details but he was weeping too hard to speak clearly by that point. She watched him impassively for a moment before exiting the room.

On the other side, she shut the door carefully behind her and leaned back against the metal surface for a moment. Her eyes fell closed briefly before she faced them. Max, Alec, and Logan were all staring at her when she opened her eyes again. A strange smell- cold and wet like the basement cells at Manticore drifted past Alec's nose.

"It's a trap." Wy said.

"_You think_?" Max asked. They all turned unconsciously to look at the cultist, who was sobbing with his head down on the table, beaten and broken.

Wy flinched when their eyes turned back to her.

"Yeah." She said and addressed Max, "I don't know what you want to do with him but stay out of that room for at least an hour. Our friend should be pretty docile for the next few hours after that though . . . if that's any help." She walked away slowly. They all watched her retreat.

"She didn't even touch him." Logan observed, breaking the silence first and frowning. "How did she do that?" He and Alec both turned to Max.

"How should I know?" She demanded irritably. Wy looked very small in the murky light of the factory as she walked away but somehow that made what had just happened more frightening and inexplicable. The air between the three was full of tense unspoken questions.

"I'll see you later." Alec promised, moving quickly to follow the girl.

"Wait-" Max turned to make some demand but Alec hardly noticed.

He waved a hand vaguely behind him as he walked away. "Later, Maxie."

As Alec hurried across the dark floor after Wy, he caught the strange scent again and suddenly the shadows were as dark and ominous as cage bars. It made him feel vulnerable and out of control and alone- all the things he had promised himself he would never feel. He pulled his jacket closer around him, making sure it covered the back of his neck. It was a gesture he hadn't realized had become habitual.

Alec caught up with her near the bottom of the stairs.

Wy was paused, holding onto the railing with tight fingers. He knew something was wrong when he reached out to touch her and his hand on her shoulder blade made her jump. This wasn't about a sleepless night in an old freezer or even about whatever had been in those darts. When she looked back over her shoulder at him, her face was milky pale.

The shock he felt at her hollowed eyes and the rigid weariness in her shoulders stopped him cold but she straightened under his gaze, her jaw going hard as usual and he demanded, "What happened back there? What's wrong with you?"

She started back down the stairs, the only tell of her weakness the hand she kept on the railing. "You wanted answers, you got answers. What does it matter, how?" When she reached the bottom, she stumbled and he had to reach out and catch her elbow.

"It matters if you're not telling us everything. You've been hiding something since the first night I met you."

Wy tried to pull her arm away but he wouldn't let go and she was forced to stop. Turning to face him, she pushed her hair out of her eyes with her free hand. "Have you told us everything, Alec?" Her voice was low and bitter as she stared up at him. He could feel her trembling in his grip, "Have you confessed to all the little things they programmed in- the desire to take orders, the way you constantly look for danger or weakness? Have you ever told anyone how easy it is to start hitting and how hard it is to stop? We were made to be killers. Do you and Max talk about how sometimes it feels _good_ to do what we were made to do?"

Alec's lip curled in disgust and he was about to push her away when he saw the look of relief pass over her eyes.

He shifted his grip to her upper arm.

"Nice try." He said coolly.

"Just let me go, Alec." It was almost a plea.

"Yeah, right. What are you gonna do? You can barely walk."

"I'll be fine. I just need to get home so I can sleep." She took one shaky step away from him and then another.

He snorted. "How are you going to get there? You could hardly make it down the stairs."

"Maybe I'll follow your example- I'm sure there's a bike around here I can steal."

"You couldn't ride to the end of the block like this." He stopped her from taking another step, pulled her around to face him again, "We'll take Max's bike." He produced a set of motorcycle keys from his pocket with a sharp smile that quickly disappeared, "Then you're going to answer some questions."

She didn't argue so he figured that for assent. Holding her firmly by the elbow, Alec half walked half carried her and found where Max had left the Ninja. During the ride, he was surprised when she rested her face against his back. He could barely feel her arms around his waist but the steady in and out of her breathing was distracting in its insistence. The ride to her squat wasn't very long but by the time they got there, she was so weak she stumbled and very nearly landed in the mud when she tried to dismount. He caught her just in time.

Alec considered his options and then with a sigh made up of equal parts irritation and resignation, he swung her up into his arms. "This had better not become some sort of pattern," he told her dryly.

She fought him weakly in response, trying to get free but he tightened his arms around her until she could hardly breathe let alone object. Thumping his arm grudgingly, Wy signaled her surrender.

"What's wrong with you?" Alec asked, "Do you need a doctor?"

Wy shook her head, banging her temple gently against his chest.

"No. I just need to sleep for about six hours and then," She yawned hugely, "I'll need to _eat_. Incidentally," She added in a sleepy slur, "if you tell anyone about this- I swear to god- I'll find a way to hurt you."

"Whatever." He argued, "I could take you easy."

But she was already asleep.

In the alley, Alec had to set her on the ground propped up against a wall to paw through her jacket and find the key to the padlock on the door. Not even the cold hard cement or his invasion of her pockets woke her. After unlocking the door and pulling the chain free, he picked up her slight form and slipped inside. Swinging the door shut with a foot, he let his eyes adjust to the dark before making his way to the bed. He lowered her gently and then shimmied off her boots before tucking her under the covers. She slept on oblivious.

He studied her for a moment. Curled on her side, with her knees pulled up to her chest, that's how Wy slept- like someone who was used to conserving body heat or someone who expected to be assaulted at any moment. She shifted restlessly and he touched her, sliding gentle fingers over silk-shiny hair until she stilled.

It was hard to reconcile this dozing sweetness with the woman who had coolly reduced a man to tears less than an hour before.

With a sigh, Alec glanced around Wy's place. Six hours of waiting and she didn't even have a TV. She said she would need to eat when she woke up and the thought gave him an idea. Turning away from the bed, he wandered into the kitchen to rifle through the cupboards.

The girl had one apple, some rice, and an old tin full of green tea.

Pathetic.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Thank-you for continueing to read this story! In fact, take a moment, pat yourself on the back and feel my appreciation. Say to yourself, "I am a good person for reading this. People will be attracted to my positive energy and will give me things." Well done you! Now, read on.

**Chap 12- **

It was almost exactly six hours after Alec had put her to bed, that Wy sat up and stretched hugely, reaching up toward the ceiling and then bending over to grasp the bottoms of her feet and arch her back. Alec watched her over the top of the book he was holding, sitting in a chair with his feet propped up on the kitchen table.

He raised one eyebrow when their eyes met.

"You can read." She observed.

"Yeah well," He set the book aside and sat up, "don't spread it around."

"Your secret's safe with me." She promised, sliding out of bed to pad into the kitchen.

There was a sharp knock on the door and she jumped, turning toward the sound like a startled animal. Alec rolled out of the chair to answer it. Watching him she calmed. Wy tilted her head back and sniffed the air, "Is that-"

Alec smiled mysteriously over his shoulder and opened the door for the delivery boy. He handed the kid a wad of bills and accepted the bag in return. Walking back to the table he pawed through it absently, making sure everything was there. He looked up to find Wy staring covetously at the bag. "You want some?" He asked as though the thought hadn't occurred to him before.

"_Hell yes_."

"That's the kind of enthusiastic response I like to hear from a woman."

"Shut up and give me some of that Pad Thai before I punch you in the throat."

He handed the carton over and she tucked right in. She didn't even wait for utensils; she reached into the box and began to eat with her fingers. It should have been disgusting, watching her eat too quickly, almost desperately and with her fingers but she was deft and surprisingly graceful about it. Watching her lick her fingertips with a gentle fervor that was almost religious stirred something unexpected in Alec and he looked down hastily into his own carton of noodles to apply himself to the use of his chopsticks.

Wy finished the Pad Thai in a matter of minutes. When she was done, she looked up and surveyed the kitchen with a frown.

"You're still hungry? How can you still be hungry?" Alec demanded incredulously.

"I need something sweet."

"There's cookies in the-" She found them hiding in the bottom of the bag before he could finish and ripped open the first one. She decimated every fortune cookie in the bag before pausing to drink a glass of water. Leaning against the counter, Wy took a deep contented breath. Ignoring Alec she pulled out two huge pots and began filling them with water.

"What're you doing?" Alec asked, setting his empty noodle container aside.

Wy turned and looked at him as though surprised he was still there. "I'm about to take the longest, hottest bath in history."

"_Okay_-"

"And you are just leaving." She added flatly, turning off the water.

"I am?" He asked, feigning surprise.

"Thanks for the ride and the food. Consider us even. Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

"Even? No. That would indicate that I owed you for something- I don't and never did owe you anything."

"Two days ago-" she reminded him, "I fed you. I gave you a place to sleep _and_ I gave you medical assistance." For some reason she didn't bring up what had happened in the alley behind the Black Flag. Maybe she thought the time he had spent dragging her through the streets afterwards cancelled that out.

"You made me some eggs and gave me some ice." He argued.

"Exactly."

"You let me sleep on the floor."

"I gave you a blanket- and a pillow."

"It's a cement floor!"

"We're still even."

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what happened tonight." He insisted.

"No. Get out."

"You can smell emotional states right?" He asked casually, leaning back in his chair and putting his feet back up on the table. "Take a deep whiff- do I smell like I'm going anywhere?"

"Get out."

"You gonna _make me_ get out?" He asked and Wy went completely still.

She didn't even glare at him. She just stared. She was _beyond_ fury. Her hand strayed toward the knife drawer for a moment but stopped. They both know she couldn't make him get out. Even with a knife, she probably couldn't even scratch him- not when he was sober and ready for her.

There was a tense silent moment.

She jumped him. It was not a tactical move and it surprised Alec intellectually if not physically. His body worked on automatic though, coming out of the chair to redirect her momentum. But she startled him again by anticipating his move and she stuck her leg out to trip him. He pulled her down with him and they both ended up on the floor. It only took a moment for Alec to pin her on her stomach with her arms behind her back. He was not even breathing hard.

"Cute." He observed dryly.

Wy leaned her forehead against the floor for a moment, "This is not fair." She said to the cement.

"_Life_ isn't fair, sweetheart." His voice was sharp for the first time.

She turned her head to look at him from the corner of her eye, "That's why people should be."

That stung him for some reason. "You want fair?" He demanded, "Fine. I'll give you fair. How about we play a little game?"

"A game."

"A question game. You ask me a question and I answer- honestly. Then I get to ask you a question and you have to answer." He could see her resistance. "Think of it as the only way to get rid of me- 'cause it is."

"What makes you think _I'll_ tell the truth?" She asked. He loosened his hold on her abruptly and then rolled her over so she could see his face.

"You can smell lies right? If you know that I'm answering truthfully you will too." He added, "That's only _fair_, right?"

She studied him for a moment, leaning back on her elbows, eyes as indecipherable as the night sky. Again he wondered what her nose and her eyes and her ears told her when she looked at him.

"I ask, you answer. Then you ask, and I'll answer. A question for a question. If at any time you refuse to answer the game is over and you leave."

"It's a deal." He agreed and stood. He offered her his hand but she ignored it and stood on her own. Moving stiffly, Wy sat down at the table and Alec lowered himself into the chair across from her. The absurdity of the pose, like they were two players at a job interview made him smile grimly. Wy refused to return the smile and Alec tilted back in the chair casually.

"Shoot." He offered flippantly.

"What is the nature of your feelings for Max?"

The legs of Alec's chair made a sharp sound when they hit the cement floor. "What?"

"What is the nature-"

"I heard you the first time." He's not casual now. "What kind of question is that?" He demanded.

"It's the question I asked." She replied coldly, "You have to answer if you want me to answer . . . that's only _fair_."

He had to answer or he had to leave. That was the deal he made. "This is stupid."

"Answer or get out."

Alec straightened in his chair and glared back at her. When he spoke his voice was coolly casual. "She's hot but it's never been like that between us. She's saved my ass more than once, so I owe her. We're friends." He admitted reluctantly.

"But you're attracted to her."

"My turn." He insisted, "What did you do to the cultist?"

She was sitting bolt upright in her chair. He couldn't see her hands, hiding in her lap but her shoulders were rigid. She stared straight into his face when she answered, her voice flat and distant. "I released a pheromone that induces fear. It breaks down resistance to questioning. What happened the night you came here all beat up?"

"I was in a fight with some guys at a bar, down by the docks. What do you mean you released a pheromone- you keep a vial of fear-inducing, people juice in your jacket?" He was falling back on sarcasm.

"I secrete it through my skin, like any pheromone."

"What-"

"My turn." She snapped, "Who was the fight with?"

"Just some guys, no one in particular- longshoreman or something. Why were you so weak after the questioning?"

"It takes a lot of energy to put out that pheromone and it was a lot fast. How many guys?"

"Nine. This is something they designed you to do?"

"Yeah. Like Max said, I was made to be a spy. Fear inducing stink comes in handy in all kinds of situations." She observed bitterly. "Why did you start the fight?"

"I was in a bad mood and I had a little too much to drink." They were snapping out answers, like a person ripping off a bandage; hoping that if it was done quickly the pain could be eluded. They were both edging around and hoping not to be asked the questions they knew were coming. "That doesn't seem very efficient. Why would Manticore give you an ability that makes you helpless for six hours after you use it?"

"Normally it doesn't. Given the time I can work up the necessary amount in half an hour easy without being debilitated but we needed info fast so I had to do it fast. Why were you in a bad mood?"

"I've been having bad dreams. You said 'that pheromone' can you make others?"

She obviously didn't want to answer but he waited stubbornly and finally she said, "Yes. What are your dreams about?"

"Manticore. What other little cocktails can you make?"

Wy crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him, "Obviously Manticore. What about it? Give me a real answer."

"It is a real answer. We never said they had to be dissertation length." He replied coldly, "What other pheromones can you make?"

"I won't answer your question until you answer my question- completely. What are your dreams about?"

Alec's training was as careful and as thorough as anyone's. He knew tactics, how to weigh possible losses against the gains of a mission- he knew to always keep the objective in sight. But like all X5's he had been programmed with an almost fanatical need to succeed once he has committed himself. He had gone too far to turn back.

He said the words quickly and without emotion. "I was sent on a mission to eliminate a possible threat. For my cover I posed as a piano teacher. I got a job tutoring the target's daughter. She was- I got . . . confused. I tried to stop it but there was an explosion. She tried to save her father and got caught in it. In my dream, I try to get to her but no matter what I do I can't reach her in time. I see her face. . ." He couldn't finish, couldn't bear to make the dream more real by talking about it.

When he looked up from the table, Wy was staring at him. Not with pity or sympathy but something strange that he couldn't name. One of her hands was resting on the table and her fingers stretched out toward him before relaxing. "I can make almost a dozen different compounds and even more in combination. There are six that are- the most significant." Her voice was cool and faraway. Like him, she was trying to distance herself from her own words. "They're easiest to describe by the reactions they provoke: fear, trust, arousal, lethargy, and aggression. The sixth is intended to make me seem insignificant and unthreatening, a kind of chemical 'don't notice me'. Stealth tech."

"You mean you put out these smells and you can make people trust you?" She was looking down at the table. She flinched under his words, "You can make people hot for you?" He shouldn't believe it -it sounds ludicrous- but he was a six foot genetically engineered killing machine and he saw what she did to the cultist.

"To a point."

"Are you doing it now?" His voice was rising, getting hard. "Have you done it before, to me? To Max?"

She looked up at that, her face pale but set, "No. I've never used it on you. I would never-"

He was shaking his head, already disbelieving her. Desperate and angry, Wy reached across the table and grabbed his wrist, "This is why I didn't tell you," She said sharply. "I can't control what they made me to do- what I am- any more than you can _but I choose_. I don't use it unless I absolutely have to and I have _never_ used it on you or Max. I swear. _I swear_-" She groped in her mind for something to swear on that would have meaning for either of them but came up short. They were created in cold gleaming labs by ruthless powerful men- not even God held much meaning for them.

He pulled his wrist out of her grip. "Why should I believe you? How do I know you're not putting out some stink that makes me trust you?"

"Look at me right now- do you feel like you trust me?" She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes, "It's not magic. I can't force people to do things they would never do. The pheromones can only push you, encourage you to do things you're already inclined to do. And most people are caught in a state that's halfway to being afraid or angry or horny already." She met his eyes, tried to find the words to convince him. His arms were crossed tightly against his chest as he watched her from hard cold eyes. "I can't-" She looked down again, "I am what I am, Alec." She said to the tabletop.

Wy heard the chair slide back sharply from the table. She heard him snatch up his jacket and the jingle of keys. His feet crossed the floor quickly. It was not until she heard the door slam behind him that she allowed her head to fall into her arms. "_Don't go_." She whispered desperately to the tabletop.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:** It's been a long time- a long time of me waffling like crazy- should I or shouldn't I? What to do? What to do? etc. But here it is. I'm still unsure sure where to go from here though so feedback would be extremely helpful. As always, THANK-YOU!

**Chap. 13-**

Alec lies on his bed in Joshua's house and stares at the ceiling. The streetlamp outside has never worked right and the light flickers intermittently. He watches the patterns it creates on the peeling paint and listens to the buzzing sound it makes.

He can't sleep- which is strange because he can sleep anywhere. _Anywhere_. At noon, on concrete, wet or hungry, spread out, standing up, or crammed into a tiny space, he can sleep; it's an ability he developed in response to the erratic conditions of Manticore training. Get the things you need when you can, while you can because who knows when they'll come around again- that's his philosophy. But here he is staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep.

Last night keeps rolling around in his head, yanking him backwards every time he gets close to sleep. He is confused by his own reaction. If it was just about lies he would have walked away. Told Max the truth and let her deal with it.

But he had been angry. Genuinely angry. Furious even.

He didn't think he was capable of feeling betrayed.

And that damn light is driving him crazy!

With an explosive sigh, he throws off the blanket and slips out of bed. Snatching up his jacket he hurries down the stairs and out the back door. Alec slides around the side of the house and moves silently down the block, looking around for signs of life. The street is empty. It's a working class neighborhood and people stick close to home after dark. Alec stands on the sidewalk and studies the light coldly. Glancing down he searches the ground for something . . . and notices a small chunk of concrete that has come loose from the side walk. He scoops it up and stands, flinging it into the air in one smooth motion. The light shatters and dies and he stands in the darkness for a moment. He enjoys the sudden silence, breathes the black air. Taking a step, he hears glass crunch like sugar under his boot.

_Do you ever talk about how sometimes it feels good to do what we were made to do?_

Alec glances around at the darkened street. They were made to destroy. He was made to destroy. There is a rock in his path and he kicks it viciously as he walks away.

_I can't help what I am anymore than you can, but I choose._

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Alec almost ran Original Cindy down. Distracted and sleep deprived, he turned away from one group of chatting bike messengers and then straight into her.

Recovering her balance with difficulty, she opens her mouth to slice him up right there and observes instead, "You look like hell, playah."

"Gee, thanks." Alec answers grimly.

Original Cindy tilts her head back and studies him for a second. "You wanna talk about it?" She asks. They make a little pool of stillness in the bustle of Jam Pony.

Not sure he heard her right, he asks, "What?"

"You wanna talk about whatevah's got you all twisted up so you look like death on a crutch?"

"Not really."

She shrugs easily and turns to go. He lets her walk away but the offer haunts him all afternoon and into the evening. So when he sees Cindy later at Crash all by herself at a table in the back, he sits down across from her without asking.

Who else does he have to talk to?

"Yeah alright, I'll talk- but," he leans towards her over the table and lowers his voice, "can we keep it between you and me? I don't need Max sweating me right now."

Cindy purses her lips and shrugs, "Ai-ight. It's between you and Cindy and the good Lord up high."

"Super." He says sourly.

Across the table from him, Cindy sits back and drapes her arm along the railing. "So, shoot. Tell Original Cindy all about your little problem."

"And you'll solve it for me?'

She smiles with half of her mouth, "I can only listen to the questions. Not even Original Cindy can promise answers."

"Very Zen of you."

Alec helps himself to some beer from the pitcher on the table. He takes a sip and licks his lip absently. He casts around in his mind for the words to describe what he's been feeling over the past few days. It's all very confusing so he starts with a quiet frustrated question, "Have you ever known someone who just gets under your skin? Who knows exactly how to push your buttons?"

Cindy frowns and nods slowly, "Yeah. Once."

He leans back and rubs his face, "It sucks, doesn't it?" He asks the ceiling, "People aren't supposed to see through you like you're a freakin' window. They're not supposed to be so- so _dangerous_. Not like that."

"To someone like you, you mean." She says flatly.

Alec's face is impassive when he looks back at her, "That's right. Someone like me should be untouchable."

When she replies her voice is tart. "Boy, how you gonna escape your cage and act like you still livin' in it?"

"You don't know a damn thing about it."

"Phftht." She disregards that assertion with a wave of her hand, "You may be genetically jacked up but you still human. You still got feelings." She leans forward onto the table and watches him through careful, intent eyes, "You can be hurt. You can feel afraid. Other people can touch things in you, you never knew existed so that you feel like you really alive for the first time. They can cut you so deep you wish you was dead . . . and you have no control over it. But feeling all them horrible wonderful things is what's really real. It's being human." She leans back again, "It ain't for the weak." She adds.

Alec looks down, watches his fingers toy with the beer glass. It's obvious he's not human. A real boy would have understood- would have _known_ that it was better to die than let Rachel die, than let her be hurt.

Instead he is some kind of reverse Pinocchio- a little wooden boy who _never_ wanted to be human.

"How do you make it go away?" He asks quietly.

She glances up, looking furious again and she opens her mouth to lay something scorching on him but the weary set of his shoulders, maybe, or the purple circles under his eyes changes her mind. Her expression settles. She answers in a cool grim voice, "You choose. You choose between maybe feeling bad so you can feel the good or feeling nothing at all. And if you choose nothing at all for long enough, that part of you withers up and dies."

Cindy looks away, staring off into the crowd and they sit in silence for a few minutes, "So what's her name?" She asks at last, "I know you ain't talking 'bout my girl, as fine as she is- so who is it that's got your shorts in such a spin?"

He wants to scoff, to fill his voice with so much contempt she'll never bring it up again but when he answers his voice sounds flat even to himself, "It's not about that."

Cindy raises an eyebrow, "It's somebody I know, ain't it? That's why you won't say, why you won't talk to Max." She taps one shinning nail against the tabletop, entirely herself again, "But not somebody from Jam Pony- you play those those bitches like they jacks, scooping 'em up and tossing 'em down again." The frown gets deeper, "Than-" She grins, realizing the answer, "The human question herself." She laughs, "You got better taste than I'd a thought. She fine. That explains the vibe." She adds.

That makes him look up finally, "What vibe?" He demands.

"The vibe between the two of you. Original Cindy maybe be strictly for the sista's but she know sexual tension wherever she finds it."

"There is no vibe."

"Whatevah."

"There isn't." He tries not to think about the night she gave him an ice pack and her t-shirt clung to her skin and she pulled a knife because he hit on her.

Cindy raises one eyebrow skeptically, "Uh-huh."

"Shut up and have another beer." He snaps, pouring her another and she salutes him mockingly with it. The talk turns to Jam Pony and they finish the pitcher and then another.

"I'll tell you one thing," Original Cindy confesses drunkenly at the end of the night as he plays the gentleman for once and walks her to the door of her squat, "It ain't easy but you ride the tiger- if you brave. Or you run away like a little bitch and never feel anything-" and even through all that beer her gaze is suddenly sharp, "and then you really will be just a thing."

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For a week, Wy hides from the world, only leaving her apartment in the dark, ignoring her pager, hardly speaking to anyone. She calls into Jam Pony and fakes the sound of vomiting so expertly, Normal _demands_ that she stay home. Max comes around once but Wy pretends to be out and the other girl leaves eventually. Wy is relieved.

Instead of thinking about what has happened, Wy reads- book after book until her small stash is exhausted. Then she cleans. She scrubs the sink, the bathtub, the toilet. She takes all of the boxes and tins out of the cupboards and cleans those out as well. She sweeps and mops the entire floor, a task that keeps her busy for almost a whole day. She falls into bed too exhausted to dream. She barely eats and even her advanced system is strained. Sometimes she shakes when she holds the books but she ignores the weakness. Every time her thoughts try to free themselves from the iron hold she keeps on them, she drags herself out the door and walks the dark streets of Seattle. She only stops moving when she feels completely hollowed out and unable to think anything at all. She takes a brief walk to the bodega down the block for groceries when the hunger makes it hard to focus her eyes.

The few times her thoughts slip loose she feels impossibly foolish and despairing. She should have known better than to believe he would understand.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Seven days after their disastrous confrontation, Alec returns abruptly.

It is another cold rainy Seattle night. The damp chill permeates the warehouse and in the midst of her self-imposed penitence, Wy feels it acutely. Bone weary, aching, empty, and cold she gives in finally and heats water for a bath. Outside, the rain picks up becoming a true and rare thunderstorm. The power goes out abruptly but Wy ignores the darkness- it's not like it hinders her much- and continues to soak. Eventually she pulls herself out of the tub and into some clean clothes. She lights a few candles and lays down on her bed to listen to the storm.

Alec doesn't knock, he breaks in. Wy hears the barely existent sounds he makes as he slips through a far window but she recognizes his familiar scent a moment later. She lets him come, feels and hears him cross the wide open floor to stand at the foot of her bed. He's dripping gently onto the cement, water in his hair and eyes from the storm. Wy knows she should be angry but she's too tired to throw any punches or even shout at him. Neither of them speak for what seems like years.

"You swear you've never used it on me?" His voice is strange.

Wy sits up abruptly, looks at him through the warm dim light. "Do you want me to cut myself and swear on my own blood? I will." She stands on the bed, takes a step forward so they are face to face, almost eye to eye, "I've never used it on you." She says deliberately.

"Not once?" He presses. They are only a few inches apart and Wy can smell the storm in his clothes and on his skin.

"Never." She promises.

He nods and she is about to step away when, moving like the lightning showing through the windows, Alec grabs her by the back of the neck and brings her forward to press their mouths together.

After a week of feeling nothing, the kiss is like a slap.

Wy pulls away and draws a desperate breath like a swimmer emerging from the surface of a lake. She is awake suddenly- cold and startled and awake. But Alec is relentless and he pulls her back to capture her mouth again. His lips are cold and his arms around her- his fingers in her hair are cold. Wy does not understand what is happening except that the rain in his mouth tastes sweet and the desire behind his kiss is genuine. And she has wanted this, so for a moment she gives in, wrapping her arms around his neck. They are both desperate to get warm.

Alec's body is pressed up against hers, hard and tense as piano wire. He is holding her so tightly Wy feels his heart beating against her chest. He slides his hand under her shirt and strokes cool fingers up her spine. The touch is delicious and she shivers. Wanting to get closer, she pushes her hands into his wet jacket and he lets go long enough to let it fall off his shoulders onto the floor. The texture of his skin is smooth under his t-shirt. His lips caress her neck and she tilts her head back to give him better access. Wy's eyelids flutter open as his mouth brushes her ear and she sees the ceiling of the warehouse through the darkness. She hears the sound of the rain, her heartbeat, Alec's breathing. She can smell the apple he ate earlier that day, taste it on her own lips. It's all so close suddenly and she can't breathe. She pulls back a little, trying to loosen her own need as well as his hold on her but he won't let go. She can feel his electrical field touching her skin, on her back, her lips, her arms, her stomach, her thighs. It feels like a cage. She attempts to draw away a little bit harder this time; she makes a small sound against his lips but again he pulls her back- and she panics.

She shoves him back _hard_ and he stumbles a little over his jacket. Wy slips or collapses off the edge of the bed and sits down heavily. They watch each other across five feet of space in the sudden stillness. They are both panting and shaking.

Wy touches her lips with a trembling hand. "What are you doing?" She asks.

"I thought it was obvious."


End file.
